


Maybe A Little (Mass Effect/Shekarian)

by WhoeverIAmToYou



Category: Mass Effect (Comics), Mass Effect - All Media Types, Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: Angst and Humor, Anxiety, Developing Relationship, Established Relationship, Established Shepard/Garrus Vakarian, Eventual Female Shepard/Garrus Vakarian, Eventual Sex, Explicit Language, Fluff and Humor, Humor, Mass Effect 2, Mass Effect 3, No Shepard without Vakarian, POV Garrus Vakarian, Paragon Shepard (Mass Effect), Platonic Relationships, Post-Mass Effect 3, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Pre-Relationship, Pre-Shepard/Garrus Vakarian, Relationship(s), Sex, Shekarian, Shepard (Mass Effect) has PTSD - Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, Spacer (Mass Effect), Story Arc, Swearing, explanation of complex ideas
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-18
Updated: 2019-07-31
Packaged: 2020-01-16 01:46:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 42
Words: 150,956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18511414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhoeverIAmToYou/pseuds/WhoeverIAmToYou
Summary: Genre: FanficIntended for those who are already very familiar with the Mass Effect games.Timeline: 2185 CE (ME2) - 2186 CE (ME3)- Snippets included of interview segments from further in the future, 2189 CE (3 years post Reaper Destruction), with Garrus as he reminisces on his relationship with FemShep.While this is ultimately a "Shekarian" story, I hold personally high regard for the pacing the original game designers designated. I also prefer believable friendships and romantic relationships centered around strong bonds, as opposed to hot flings.Those two things are the main goals:1. Maintain story integrity: (i.e. actual events in the games, and some additional influence from the comics, will be covered)2. Flesh out the in-between moments leading to strong relationshipsFemShep will be based off my personal favorite playstyle: Infiltrator, Paragon.All [direct and/or partial quotes] from game dialogue or comics belong to the original writers.*casual thumbs up*





	1. 1. May, Garrus

**Author's Note:**

> Other important notes:  
> 1\. Psychological impacts in characters are either well-researched or written from personal experience  
> 2\. Physical injuries and their affect on the individual are well-researched, but allowances are made for "Cerberus tech"
> 
> 1-2 a. If you don't agree with how I've written something psychology-wise or physical injury-wise, send me a message and tell me about your experience so I can learn from it.
> 
> 3\. I own and have played most, if not all DLC within the games, some of those missions may or may not be included in this story  
> 4\. I have clear favoritism towards certain characters and do not pursue writing regularly about characters I, personally, did not enjoy as much in my /several/ playthroughs.  
> a. I specify /several/ so the reader is aware I have interacted with all characters in the game, rather extensively, through (currently) /five/ completed playthroughs. I wouldn't be willing to express clear dislike if I'd only interacted with the characters once or twice.  
> b. If I write about a character you loved in a less than enthusiastic light, I request that you accept this is my personal preference and move on.
> 
> 5\. This story was originally posted with 9 chapters already completed on 18/04/2019.

 

 

 

[2185, Sol System month of “May”; Normandy SR-2]

 

The elevator stopped and just as the doors were about to open, Shepard braced herself. Her visage set in a serious expression, resolute, and purpose driven. She knew what was coming…

“Commander Shepard, you have a new message at your private terminal.”

 

 _There it was_ …

 

Shepard offered a tense smile and thanked the yeoman, forcing herself to be amused by it rather than annoyed. She was just doing her job. Pushing past the mistrust she had for Chambers’s sickly sweet voice and upbeat extroverted personality, she approached her yeoman to offer what she could of friendly conversation.

“Is there anything I should know about the crew?”

“Nothing right now.”

 

Satisfied with the length of this friendly conversation, Shepard entirely ignored her inbox and stepped up to the galaxy map. It was time to get her people back. Seeing Tali again had given her hope the others could be found once more.

Placing her hands on the railing, she felt a grin curl the corners of her mouth. Some part of her wanted to be dramatic, point and say with a rich commanding voice exactly where they were going, but truth was she actually had no idea where they were going yet.

Dropping her head with a sigh, she backed away from the galaxy map and turned to look at her private terminal. Chambers had better not be smiling smugly over there. Shepard scanned the list of dossiers available to her. One in particular stood out among the rest, and curiosity gripped her. “Archangel…” Shepard whispered, placing her hands on the edge of the small desk and leaning forward to read the profile.

Chambers looked over at her and Shepard braced for some upbeat comment about how wonderful it would be to go on that mission and how she wished the commander all the luck in the world, but the yeoman remained silent.

Shepard pushed off the desk and took a step back then advanced once again toward the galaxy map. “You taking notes, Chambers?” Shepard asked wondering if the yeoman was constantly updating her profile about every possible mood she could have at any time.

“Absolutely, ma’am. Something about Archangel has excited you more than the other dossiers. I’d like to believe it’s not just the name. Somehow you’re connected to whomever it is even when your conscious doesn’t know who, your soul does.”

 

Shepard’s expression was blank and she forced the feisty and possibly quite rude voice in her head stay silent. Turning back to the galaxy map she once again braced her hands on the railing and said “Joker? Prep for Omega.”

“Right away, Commander.” 

 

\--- ---

 

[2185, Sol System month of “May”; Omega]

 

 

Five days ago he was standing in this same spot, ADS at the jittering and buzzing head-frame of a LOKI mech. Five… days… Where did these low lives get this much support?

In the first two days, the attacks had been more organized, more predictable. Most of the attacks were at night, when they clearly hoped he couldn’t see them crossing the bridge. Albeit, before subsequently discovering they were very naïve in that optimism. In the hours he’d slept, it hadn’t been as restorative as he needed it to be, but he was simply tired, not quite reaching sleep deprived.

Day three became the day of attrition.

He’d been sleeping in full armor, the safety on his rifle flipped upwards, omnitool prepped as a blade if he needed to wake up and swipe quickly to create space between him and his armed attackers. Despite the locked door between him and the easiest access to his defendable perch, he still felt the deployed omnitool blade potentially necessary. His anxious mind frequently woke him up before an attack began, although it was difficult _not_ to hear advancing Vorcha at any given time, but this morning a startling sound sent a surge down his spine. 

The all-too-eager, but distant, roar of a krogan echoed in the previously silent space. His eyes instantly snapped to the door, confirming it was still locked. Glancing to his right, he surveyed the situation to contain a krogan, two salarians, and three vorcha running towards the lobby below his secured and well-stocked roost.

 

 

_Begin… Attrition_

 

 

 **_Twenty four hours:_ ** _Hand-Eye coordination is impaired, speed in decision making deteriorates, sounds are more difficult to discern, ability to maintain focus decreases…_

He had to keep it up. There was no chance he’d let them pile up at the door. Eventually one of them would figure out how to open the damn thing if he gave them the time… Where the hell did they get this many recruits?

 

 **_  
Thirty six hours:_ ** _Previous symptoms increase in intensity, memory of actions and awareness of time declines or drops completely, inflammatory markers in blood and brain affect blood pressure, subsequently affecting breathing, and ability to focus on all fronts but on immediate essentials regresses._

The slightest movements now sent his heart pounding much harder than it should, the chemical compositions from his brain weren’t balanced, and in a dull way, _everything_ hurt. It was probably a miracle his hands were even remotely steady. He’d accepted aiming for the chest instead of the head…

 

 **_Forty eight hours:_ ** _Mind forces itself into micro-sleep states, disorientation is increased, logical and emotional functionality near minimal._

One moment they’d be storming down the center of the bridge, the next they’d be in the lobby below him. He was still doing well. The people they were sending weren’t trained at all… It’s probably the only reason he was still able to keep them at bay. What were these guys sending? Random people off the street? A shot from his own rifle startled him momentarily before he saw another Vorcha fly back against the bridge floor…

 

A message arrived on his omnitool. With blurry eyes he blinked heavily a few times then attempted to focus on the message. He was dizzy, and staying standing wasn’t easy. He’d managed to put together a stand from which he could rest his rifle for vision on the field below to help him stay steady. Thoughts were more like white noise now. Although his vision was like a falcon’s, things seemed to blur together every once in a while leaving him confused and searching for anything that could remind him of where he was.

 

>Cerberus Initiative:

>Shepard’s your extraction team leader. Be ready for her arrival within the day.

> \- Anonymous

 

_White noise…_

 

 

‘Shepard? Cerberus?’

 

His eyes closed for a moment and he felt like he was falling backwards. While startled, he was unable to gather the energy at the moment to move from his currently seated position against the wall.

 

‘Within the day? She was _here_?’

 

He didn’t have time to doubt it. Another push had started towards his position. He groaned as he stood and situated his rifle on the edge of the support stand. Every muscle in his body was tense, but at any moment it felt like they could give out.

 

 

 

“… _Shepard_.” He whispered to himself quietly as her form became clear within the ACOG reticle. Relief washed over him and he was too tired to question it. She appeared to be playing along. For a brief moment he wondered whether or not she was really here to help… especially if she didn’t know it was him, but he kept his vision trained on the mercs walking ahead of her. When she started firing on them he exhaled and moved his vision to the bridge to watch for anyone advancing from behind who may try to take her out before she could help.

Watching her six… just like old times.

 

His breathing was labored despite taking care to not move much, his mind continuing to force him into micro-sleep cycles. He barely registered the sound of the door she opened behind him. Remaining where he was for a moment, he gained his composure before attempting to push off the wall and his rifle into some semblance of a standing position.

 

What time was it? For all he knew this may not be real…

 ** _Seventy two hours_** **:** _hallucinations…_

 

Sitting down on the closest object, he reached up to take his helmet off and acknowledged her presence. He barely processed her initial reaction, but it was clear she was _elated_ to see him… The serious, resolute Commander Shepard advanced toward him with the most excited expression he’d ever seen on her face. He’d never seen her look so happy… Spirits that felt good. A little drop of serotonin was all he needed and she’d just given his brain the reason to create it. For a brief moment once more he wondered if he was hallucinating, but the two people at her side, he’d never seen before. No, this was real. Shepard… was real.

He wished he had the energy to return the favor. He tried his best to offer a witty reply when she claimed he’d shot her, but her presence didn’t mean this was over… Another wave of mercs came through and with a somewhat renewed resolve, he stood and braced once again on his rifle perch.

Shot after shot and he was just mechanically doing whatever he could, hardly paying attention to his six anymore, and barely capable of maintaining focus ahead of him. Shepard and her team were here. He didn’t need to watch it himself.

But the short reprieve was quickly pursued by a _fucking chopper_.

 

“I thought I took that thing out already!” he yelled in dismay and aggravation.

 

\---

 

Shock encased his whole body, startling, painful as hell as he felt his vision cloud… He couldn’t hear much of anything but Shepard was standing over him, so the chopper must be down again.

“JOKER! We need emergency ------ and ------- Chakwas, Garrus ------- fucking missile! -------- blood resupply-------!”

Everything about his surroundings were fading in and out, Shepard’s face above him distraught but fiercely determined, before his brain forced him into a dark state of oblivion.


	2. 2. May, Chambers

 

 

[2185, Sol System month of “May”; Normandy SR-2]

 

 

“Garrus…” the calming voice of Dr. Chakwas made him open his eyes and focus on the wall across the room for a moment. He inhaled more deeply wincing slightly at the pain that shot through him as his chest rose from the action.

“You’re on quite a lot of pain medications right now, but we’ve managed to put that life-saving metallic face of yours back together, gotten you rehydrated, given you back all that blood you lost, and when conscious, we’ve been forcing you to work down some nutrient paste. You should be feeling a bit stronger despite the circumstances.”

“Shepard?” He asked trying to move his mouth as little as possible.

“She visits you quite often.” Dr. Chakwas tried to hide a smug little all-knowing smile. “Don’t you remember?”

He closed his eyes momentarily, his mouth hanging open a bit thanks to the numbing agents, trying to remember anything he could about his time in recovery. Twice a gentle hand on the good side of his face. Someone’s small hands holding on to one of his. Shepard’s?

For a moment his mind mocked him. Knowing Shepard, as soon as she saw him, she’d expect him to be field ready. 

“How long have I been here?” He asked, trying to sit up a bit more in the bed, shuffling a hand behind him slightly to prop up on for a moment as he raised the angle of the bed to a more appropriate sitting incline.

“It is currently 20:08 using the human 24 hour clock. You were hit two days ago.” She huffed a laugh and continued. “Thanks to this incredibly advanced Cerberus med bay and high-grade medications, you’re almost ready to walk around again, but-“

“Doctor…” His eyes wrinkled slightly from pain and a bit from amusement. “You know I’m going out there.”

“I know I can’t stop you, but if Shepard takes you out with her on this next mission I will be having a few words with her.” Her motherly tone accompanied by a stern expression when he met her gaze.

“You said she’s been here regularly?” He huffed slightly as he attempted to push himself upright in the bed. His face got the worst of it, but obviously his shoulder took one hell of a beating too.

“Yes, every few hours she pops in asking whether or not you’ve been given food and water, how well your wounds were cleaned… etcetera. She’s talked to you a few times.” Her voice was gentle, supportive, but clearly attempting to hide what sounded like… pride.

“I... don’t recall.” His voice sounded more disappointed than he’d anticipated.

“You were never quite fully awake for her visits, but I will say Mr. Vakarian, I’ve had other crew members in here before and she’s only stopped in once or twice just to hear my own reports. She came in to see you, not to hear from me.” The smugness was easily heard in her voice this time.

There was no point in trying to extrapolate meaning from her words. He really wasn’t quite sure what he’d do with the thoughts if he _did_ find their meaning. Gingerly, he pivoted in a seated position and gently laid his feet on the floor. The surge of pounding blood in his face made him close his eyes for a moment and just breathe until the pounding calmed down a bit.

Upon rising to his full height, Dr. Chakwas once again returned her full attention to him. “Are you steady?” She asked approaching him with both arms extended, ready to hold him upright should he need support. No doubt it was natural for her to do so now with all her work on Joker.

Nodding, he took another deep breath reaching a hand up towards his face, his fingers coming to rest on soft gauze instead of torn flesh or shattered dermal plating.

“I shouldn’t have to tell you to be careful and not take that off unless I tell you to.”

“No, ma’am.” Garrus replied, lowering his hand and on habit, inspecting it for blood. “Thank you, Doctor Chakwas.” Now that he’d been standing for a few seconds and the medications were working their magic he felt… good. His mood was considerably improved since his last time fully conscious, he felt healthy… enough, and he knew Dr. Chakwas and something like good-ol’ Cerberus’s necromancy machinery had somehow managed to keep his face in one piece.

“Shepard’s currently in the briefing room if you’d like to see her… but you need to read this before you do.”

Garrus reached out to accept the tablet she’d handed him and he set about earnestly reading. After a minute or two, he sat back down on the edge of the bed reading through a slew of carefully selected information Miranda had compiled for the crew to read regarding Shepard’s recovery. 

When he finished reading he stood, more steadily this time, and laid the tablet quietly on Dr. Chakwas’s desk. “Thank you.” Garrus said to her with a polite nod.

“What do you think?” She asked picking it up and laying it in neatly organized fashion on the side of her desk.

“I don’t really know what to think other than it’s… yeah, it’s just _good_ she’s back. This… _Illusive Man_ made a damn good call. I don’t trust it for a second-.” He fell to silence. There wasn’t much more he felt like saying.

Doctor Chakwas simply nodded in agreement and with another warning to be careful with that patched up face of his, she let him leave.

 

Despite everything, things felt almost back to normal if not a bit more mysterious and exciting as he walked toward the briefing room.

He didn’t know what to expect when he entered, but spirits was he glad to see the commander reinstated, regardless of her biology reengineering. Their time working together against Saren and Sovereign taught him so many things about her species. Despite being human, he respected her as much, if not more, than most of the turian commanders he’d once looked up to.

Pity was the last thing he’d expect once he walked in that room… and he was glad he was right. Her stance was originally professional, but once greeted with his witty entrance, she crossed her arms, cocked a hip and grinned at him. She’d chosen to match his cocky mood with her own snarky humor and he was very glad she did so, despite how badly laughing hurt his jaw even through the meds. He needed that…

 

 

\--- ---

 

[Interview; Subject: Garrus Vakarian; late year 2189 CE, 3 years post Reaper Destruction.]

 

 

“Shepard, somehow… never seemed to rush in _blindly_ , unlike Grunt, Wrex, Liara, Javik, Tali, Ashley, Zaeed, Kasumi…”

He paused offering a wry laugh, “Sorry… mm-you get the point… Shepard- her assessment of distance, positioning of enemies, and whether or not her shields would last long enough to get her to a prime place of cover… and how quickly she processed it all was simply _uncanny._ As soon as I started paying attention… which was really heh-on the _first_ field mission I accompanied her on… my respect for her increased ten-fold. Of course she was quick- _minded_ , but her ability to take control of a situation by anchoring in a strategic position _was_ …”

Pausing briefly, he huffed another short laugh, “-beautiful.”

Yet another pause followed his one-worded description, his expression appearing raptured in the past before he took a quiet sharp inhale and continued, “I suppose it might be _strange_ to think of something like that as _beautiful_ , but ‘admirable’ wouldn’t be enough. When something is _admirable_ , you nod in approval and maybe grin a bit. Something… beautiful is difficult to stop paying attention to… even out of the corner of your eye.”

 

[ _Vids recorded from on-suit cameras play on-screen in silence_ ]

…

 

“Like that… _Damn_.” He said nodding at the screen. His jaw twitched accompanied by his eyes squinting in a proud smile.

“She did this other thing-” The proud expression shifting slightly to one of almost-shyness and happiness.

Speaking again, he looked away from the screen and back at the interviewer, “When we knew to prepare for an assault, before rounding a corner or leaping over a barricade, she’d pause, make eye contact with me, and give me this… _sly_ grin like she looked forward to what was coming. She, of course, paid attention to our other squad mates, mm-but even before we were together she’d always look and smile at _me_ … _specifically_.”

His hands reached up to the raised collar of his armor and grasped it casually. “I suppose it’s curious now how things like that… you’re oblivious to it all at one point. Those small things don’t _mean_ much to you in the beginning when you don’t even _realize_ you’re becoming attached. Then you look back and realize you hung on to those moments, but now they seem so clear, like a turning point.”

 

\--- ---

 

[2185, Sol System month of “May”; Normandy SR-2]

 

 

Miranda closed the door to the conference room behind her, momentarily following the action with narrowing her eyes and crossing her arms.

Garrus stood with arms crossed at the far right corner of the table. Jacob stood in a similar stance opposite him, Kelley Chambers stood with her hands behind her back a few feet to Miranda’s left, Jack sat on the railing on the right side of the room with her chin in one palm, Mordin barely even glanced at Miranda’s entrance as he folded his left arm over his torso, supporting his right elbow with hand beneath his chin standing beside Jacob.

“Well… Where’s Zaeed?” Miranda asked slightly miffed.

No one answered her question, but a moment later there was a loud ‘clang’ noise outside the door followed instantly by swearing. Miranda opened the door again and Zaeed bustled in with a huff “Every damn door in this place opens as you walk up to it, but this one? Nah, you’ve gotta sit there and unlock the damn thing.-“ His voice trailed off in annoyed old-man grumbles before Joker’s voice on comms interrupted the tension in the air.

“So… you’re all gathered in the comm room together… at the same time, and I have the feeling it isn’t to say hi to our buddy, The Illusive Man.”

“They’re all interested in listening to what Shepard will do with the tank-krogan. I believe a few of them have wagered bets.” EDI chimed in as Zaeed nodded in acceptance of this hypothesis, before a second later Shepard’s voice flowed over the glass center of the comm table in holographic audio waveform stating her decision.

“EDI… I want to open the tank.”

“Yes… Commander. The controls, _and consequences_ are now yours.”

The waveform responded to the sound of the krogan falling to its knees. The whole room seemed to tense slightly as the coughing ended and was soon followed by loud thumps, accompanied by a growl that was quickly rising in volume.

Mordin’s hand dropped from his chin only slightly but his expression grew even more overwrought.

Garrus’s foot moved slightly as if to make his way toward the door. The realization he wouldn’t be able to help, and that Shepard could most likely handle this froze his legs in place as he commented in an resolute tone, “He’s charging…” just as the slam of Shepard’s body against a wall could be heard.

When Shepard next spoke, her voice didn’t sound severely pained and the postures of almost everyone in the comm room relaxed marginally.

Kelley’s hands had flown up to her face in concern when the audio indicated the krogan was charging, but they dropped slightly when it was obvious the commander wasn’t in much pain. She couldn’t bring herself to lower her hands completely as worry still gripped her figure. Her fingertips still rested on the lower part of her jaw, pushing her cheeks up a bit, her brow was furled, but contrasted slightly by her wide puppy-dog eyes. She was the innocent picture of concern that every soldier in that room felt, but never showed externally.

The krogan… now naming itself “Grunt” sounded understandably confused, and with a moment to compose herself, Kelley now appeared distracted with her analyses as she forwent her pensive panicked expression, pulled out a tablet, and attempted to type quickly as Grunt spoke. Now that things seemed to be somewhat under control, Jack dropped her head dramatically in boredom and groaned before hopping off the railing and making her way back to the underbelly of the ship. Zaeed and Jacob too left the room shortly after as Zaeed collected the sum he’d made from Jacob’s betting hands and incredulous expression.

“I really thought Shepard was smarter than that, but I guess taking risks is a big part of her profile.” Jacob commented as the doors slid shut behind them.

When the conversation drew to a close Miranda, Mordin, Kelley, and Garrus all left the room together. Kelley spoke first, still staring at her tablet as a giant list of her thoughts and half-analyses on Grunt filled the page, “That went better than expected, but I’m still a bit uncertain about his mental stability.”

Mordin appeared to already be engrossed in another topic as the doors to the lab slid shut behind him.

“Keep an eye on him, Ms. Chambers.” Miranda said with a serious expression before heading in Jacob’s direction.

As Garrus turned to walk away Kelley stepped beside him and conversationally prodded, “I wrote down some notes on you as well.”

“I thought you might.” Garrus said casually, glancing at her out the corner of his eye for a moment.

“Does that bother you?” Kelley asked in follow-up as the first of the two doors between the lab and the CIC closed behind them.

Garrus stopped walking in the little corridor, closed doors now on either side of them. He hadn’t expected her to ask that question to him personally, but she was looking for one of two things: his emotional response, or his honest feedback. Either one would probably be written down in his file anyway.

“You’re doing your job, the same as the rest of us, Ms. Chambers, and it seems like you’re good at what you do.” He prefaced, “The part I… and _most_ of us don’t like, is that you work with The Illusive Man. You aren’t really on this ship to help _Shepard_ with her understanding of the crew. Everything you type into those profiles,-” he indicated casually, gesturing at the tablet in her hand, “-gives The Illusive Man more information about how to _manipulate_ us all into doing what _he_ needs done…”

He paused a moment, making sure she maintained eye contact with him right now, and before she could offer a defense he made his point very clear in a casual, conversational way, “You’re giving The Illusive Man the ability to observe, in a clinical way, how Shepard thinks, how much sway her emotions really have on her decisions, what kind of risk she _is_ and _isn’t_ willing to take… You’re handing him equations on how to orchestrate people’s incentives and he _knows_ how to use them.”

He said nothing for another moment, letting her think about what he’d said. A moment ago, she’d looked at him like she had something important to say in defense, but now she stood silently, dropping her gaze to her tablet for an instant.

Momentarily glancing away from her toward the door, his jaw flexed in discomfort before he returned his gaze to her and his focus to speaking once more, “We can’t stop you from doing your job, but surely you’ve realized, even before I said it, what has been bothering everyone… I need to get back to work, but you may want to think about the logic behind the situation you’re in.”

She remained perfectly still, looking up at him with a now concerned expression, “You aren’t establishing these profiles in an ethical fully consenting environment for a big corporation conducting a behavioral analysis study. This isn’t for a research publication on-” he held his hands out on either side of his body like his hands represented brackets,

 

“-Psychological Impacts In Soldiers Repeatedly Forced To Fight Without Government Support; A Cross-Species Analysis…”

 

Letting his arms drop to a comfortable position, he once again indicated toward her tablet with an open hand, “You’re sending all of this to _one_ man for unforeseen reasons.”

A few seconds of silence filled the corridor. When Kelley offered no comment in return, his jaw once again flexed in discomfort before he made his way through the last door to the CIC, and waited for the elevator to return.

Chambers was once again standing at her desk, staring with glassy eyes at the screen before her when the elevator doors opened and Shepard appeared. Garrus exchanged a respectful acknowledging gaze with her, before they traded places.

 

“What do you think of Grunt?” Shepard asked Kelley as she approached her.

Chambers bit the inside of her lip for a moment before clearing the pained expression off her face and turning to answer the Commander’s question.

“All the profile information I had was prepared for Dr. Okeer, not for Grunt. He’s clearly confused, but he seems content to refrain from being destructive… for now.” Chambers replied attempting to hide the concern in her voice from her previous interaction with Garrus.  

Understandably, Kelley’s analysis on his profile was somewhat limited at the moment, but Shepard thanked her anyway and walked away to check her mail before stepping back up to the Galaxy Map.

Joker asked, “Where to, Commander?” but Kelley barely registered anyone in the room still talking. Her focus remained solidly on the console before her.

“The Citadel. I have the Dossier of a “Master Thief…” Shepard said glancing once again at her Mail for confirmation.

“Oh, yeah, that sounds smart. Bring him or her on board the ship and the let him or her off again when we go places that may or may not have access to the Black Market. Yeah, why not?” Joker retorted.

 _‘What do I do?’_ Kelley asked herself as the ship approached the nearest Mass Relay.

“At the very least, I’m going to talk to them... The Illusive Man paid them to help us.” Shepard said attempting to defend the idea. “A master thief on board, who’s willing to work with us could be really helpful.”

“Hah! Don’t let Hackett ever hear you say that, he might have a stroke.”

“No more than when we had a mercenary krogan with us on the ship- oh wait.” Shepard once again retorted as the ship lurched into FTL travel.

 

 

\---

 

[2185, Sol System month of “November”; Normandy SR-2; Post Collector Base Destruction | Audio Recorded Journal; Speaker: Kelley Chambers]

 

 

“I’m going to attempt to record some of my experiences while aboard the Normandy, but I suppose I need to start from the beginning. I… we all started working for Cerberus because we believed in what they were _doing_... They were goal-oriented and at the top of their game in technology and outreach. They wanted to _protect_ humanity and they were doing a better job at _doing_ something than the Alliance. We genuinely believed that. You know, at times I wondered whether or not The Illusive Man was also the Shadow Broker… I still wonder that sometimes.

The… When The Illusive Man asked _me_ , _personally_ to be on Commander Shepard’s crew as the yeoman, I didn’t hesitate. An opportunity like that is one of those things that you say yes to and figure out how to do it later. There are a few things I’ll mention in this recording. One being the… _shift_ in the crew when Shepard walked aboard and began commanding the ship. We all knew about her, we all knew how important she was, but there was so much about her actually _being_ there that made us all a little uneasy, a little more proud, a little more determined. I suppose we were all a little afraid of her, but, okay I know this is a bit random but _wow_ … you should have heard the recording from when she found Archangel, eh, Garrus on Omega. That was one of the first things we did when Shepard took charge of the Normandy.

I suppose I should explain for potential legal reasons in here that the armor on Shepard and her ground-team were equipped with audio bugs. They were really fancy too. They could cancel out gunfire so when I listened I could really hear conversations… Especially since Shepard used a sniper rifle, so did Garrus, Legion, well, I didn’t have any audio bugs on Legion obviously, and Thane, then you had Tali and Grunt with shot guns… Anyway, I’m not entirely sure what they’re called, but they only transmitted the audio to me… the rest of the Cerberus crew didn’t know. In fact, The Illusive Man had specifically said that I was the one who had the time to listen to them and all he wanted from me was the analysis of the results.

Anyway, I might go into more details on those recordings later, but this still needs to stay mostly professional. I’m not recording these for gossip. The other thing I wanted to mention in this first entry was something Garrus said to me right after Shepard had released Grunt. I think… I think what he said was primarily what started my mind down the path of doubt in Cerberus. Ever so slightly I started to wonder if Cerberus really did have humanity’s best interest at heart, or if The Illusive Man had _Cerberus’s_ best interests… It may better explain why I wanted to start these audio recordings too."

 


	3. 3. June, Garrus

[2185, Sol System month of “June”; Normandy SR-2]

 

 

 

Shepard braced her hands on the main console, eyes cold as ice, and fixed on the mail she’d just received.

 

 

From: Admiral Hackett

Commander Shepard:

Our scans in the Amada system have turned up something we thought you should see: the final location of the wreckage of the SSV Normandy.

We thought this news might be important to you, but we also have an ulterior motive. The Alliance would like to honor the Normandy with a monument, to be built on the site of the ship's final resting place. We'd like to invite you to place the monument and be the first to walk on the site.

There are still 20 crew members unaccounted for from the attack on the Normandy. If you find any signs of these lost crewmen, we ask that you report to the Alliance so that those heroes' families might find some closure.

 

Godspeed to you, Commander.

 

 

 

She hadn’t forgotten about her fallen crew, just as she could never forget about her team downed on Virmire all those years ago… but guilt gripped her spine and tensed her shoulders. They’d actually found it… _without her help_. Expletives raced through her mind as she stepped up to the Galaxy map and with a frustrated wave of her hand she told Joker to head for the Omega Nebula, then Alchera in the Amada System.

In the several hours they had to kill before arrival, Shepard sat on the edge of her bed, right heel rapidly hitting the floor below her. With her forearms resting on both knees, she stared daggers at the ground between her feet.

“I didn’t look for them…” she said to herself again in disbelief. “How the fuck… damn it…”

It didn’t matter she hadn’t been very close to the ship’s crew, those were the people Anderson had put in her care. It was no excuse that she, herself, had died and been brought back to life with the Collectors still on the asses of humanity. They had a new Normandy with even better equipment… and in the months she’d been alive again, the thought to look for the crash of the original Normandy only crossed her mind when she first saw the SR-2.

The resounding thump of her heel on the floor stopped and the room fell all-too-quiet. The motors of the fish tanks could barely be heard behind the thick glass. With a frustrated sigh, her mind steeled itself against the guilt and self-deprecation. There were still things to be done on the ship before reaching their destination.

“Shepard?” a voice questioned on comms as she stood from the bed.

She took a deep breath before answering, “Garrus?” She questioned in return, in the moment at a loss for better conversation skills.

“I received a notification we’re heading for Alchera… EDI filled me in on why.” He said gently.

Her mind attempted to find something respectable to say in return, but nothing useful solidified itself enough to say aloud.

Garrus continued regardless, “I -… we just wanted to let you know you don’t have to go out there alone. The LZ is devoid of civilization and it appears not much by the ways of wildlife live in the area either, so fighting likely won’t be necessary… but-“

“-Thank you, Garrus… but I’ll go without backup.” Her voice sounded distant and hollow.

“Alright. I’ll… be here when you get back if-“ He halted unsure of what to say next.

_I’ll be here if you want to talk(?) I’ll be here if you need someone to just sit with you in silence(?)_

“I might just… sit in the Main Battery for a bit when I come back, if that’s alright with you.” As soon as the comment escaped her mouth she furrowed her brow in a ‘wtf’ expression at herself. As she processed the words, however, the more comforting they sounded.

“I- yeah, absolutely.” He replied quickly, turning away from the console to look around at the little space.

She responded with a gentle, “Thanks.” Before ending the comm, a reserved but adoring smile curling her mouth for just a moment as she left her room.

He’d neatly tucked the foldable cot away earlier that morning, but the only thing to sit on would be crates. He didn’t know if sitting on his cot would be comfortable or for some reason awkward for her, but… maybe it would be nice to sit somewhere comfortable while brooding in silence.

Moving the crates away from the wall a bit, he re-secured the legs of the cot, and pulled a large blanket out of the trunk he’d slid beside it. Folding it double, he laid it atop the thin fabric of the cot, smoothing it out to lay flat before pulling his pillow out of the same trunk, and placing it at the head of the bed, closest to the door. When the bed was set up more comfortably, he pushed the crates against the right wall and began organizing the spare heat sinks, magazines, and the extended barrel he’d left lying on the floor the last time he modded his secondary weapon. It was now incredibly obvious he’d cleaned up for her visit, but regardless, it was a kind thing to do for any friend.

 

\---

 

Shepard had been scouring the frozen landscape for each and every dog tag for at least an hour and a half. For all the destruction, it was so… peaceful. When she finished her task, she took a moment to examine the Mako, still in mint condition, frozen oh so majestically in a conveniently elevated cradle of ice. She shook her head, allowing herself to smile amidst the devastation.

She wished she could make a second memorial plaque reading “The world’s most obnoxious all-terrain vehicle. Enemies won’t know where it’s going, and neither will you.” But at such a tragic scene, the spot of humor probably wouldn’t be welcomed by anyone who hadn’t personally experienced the terror that was the Mako.

The first time she’d driven it she’d been so careful, attempting to take hills slowly and not jostle everyone around too much, but when everyone grasped the reality of how ridiculous driving it was, she lost interest in graceful descents. From then on, she regularly launched the damn thing off the top of a mountain with exchanged ‘here we go again’ glances from Garrus and Wrex before, inevitably, the front right wheel caught a single rock, and put them in a near nauseating tail spin. The first time Liara had been along for the ride was one for the scrap books.

Part of her really wanted to put the memorial in front of the Mako because every member on her ground-team would instantly be flooded with interesting memories. Instead, respectfully, she’d placed the statue of the Normandy before the sheared off side of the ship announcing the name of the fallen vessel and the legend that was the entire crew aboard her. Looking down at the pile of silver dog tags in her hand, she returned to the shuttle, laid the tags safely on the co-pilot’s seat, and powered the brick-of-a-vessel on.

 

 

The Normandy was abnormally quiet upon Shepard’s return, perhaps the whole ship knew why they were on Alchera. Hackett called her to thank her for finding all the dog tags of the fallen crew members as she walked through the cargo bay to the elevator. There wasn’t much for her to say other than “Of course, Admiral.”

The doors of the elevator slid shut and she requested it take her to the crew deck. Reminiscing about the Mako had lifted her mood, but the guilt of everything that happened still stung a bit.

 

\---

 

Garrus stood at his console, as usual, as the doors behind him opened and Shepard stepped into the small room. He wanted to greet her, but was right in the middle of something. He tried to convey with body language he was trying to finish whatever he was working on quickly, and he offered a distracted, “Sorry, I’m in the middle of some calibrations.”

She politely remained quiet to let him concentrate, but he heard the thin frame of the cot groan slightly as she sat down on it.

A minute later he nodded emphatically, “Okay, there… Done. For right now anyway.” He commented with an ‘of course’ shrug as he turned toward her.

Crossing his arms, he leaned against the console behind him. “How’d it go?”

“Mm-Finding all the dog tags wasn’t exactly fun, and I drove myself crazy when I could only find nineteen out of the twenty…”

She paused and the plates on his forehead furrowed slightly, “I eventually found them all.” She clarified.

With a pensive tone, she continued, “I-… you know, when Hackett sent me a message about this, I was miffed for not finding the crash site myself. It bothered me that amidst everything going on here, and all the other random assignments from Hackett… I _forgot to look for it myself_.”

Garrus offered a derisive snort, perhaps a bit insensitively, “Shepard… the Collectors _killed_ you, landed you in the hands of Illusive Man voodoo to recover for two years, then suddenly Cerberus dumps a whole bunch of tasks on you “for the good of humanity”-“

Shepard interrupted him, “None of those should be excuses –“

He interjected in return. “-Excuses? No…” he started, shaking his head, “Just reality. The fact that you remember who you are at all is incredible, and I… well those of us who were with you on the original Normandy are really glad you do.”

He pushed against the console with his hips to move away from it and took a few steps toward her, sitting down on the crate he’d pushed beside the cot. Resting his elbows on his knees he looked at her momentarily before shifting his gaze to the ground.

“What happened to you?” Shepard started to ask, “When the Collector’s hit the Normandy. You were still on board.”

He huffed a laugh devoid of amusement and shook his head. “I made it to an escape pod with some of the Engineering crew, Liara, and Dr. Chakwas… The escape pods all landed on Altera, but we only saw ship wreckage falling in the horizon. We used the escape pods as shelter for a while, making use of the limited MREs inside. Thankfully, it didn’t take long for Anderson and some of Hackett’s men to find us. It was obvious all communications from the Normandy to the Alliance disappeared somewhere in our area.”

Momentarily he paused, recounting the sequence of events, “The only place they could think to take us was the Citadel. It was still pretty busted up from Sovereign… Within the week Anderson contacted those of us he could still find and informed us of your- that you were officially declared KIA. I… don’t really remember much of the first week or so I was there.” He said with a twinge of regret.

Clearly curious, she prodded, “Why not?”

The reality of the answer to that question left him searching for words for a little too long, his gaze fixated on his hands.

“What happened?” She questioned again, interest probably heightened by his hesitation to answer.  

“Depression… mostly.” He said looking back up to meet her gaze. His eyes squinting slightly, hands clasped tighter than need be.

He didn’t know if she’d connect the dots, but his gaze held firmly with hers for a moment. Her death was one of the reasons for his bought of depression. It wasn’t her fault, obviously, but the news that she was dead hit him harder than he’d expected. Not only because she was a comrade…

When she didn’t say anything, he continued the conversation, glancing back down at his hands, “I-ah. Hah-doing nothing definitely wasn’t an effective coping strategy. So, I tried to find a new one. The rest of the crew was trying to figure out whether they should return home or find another job.” He finished with an unfeeling huffed laugh.

“I want to ask if you visited your parents, but after how things were going with your dad, I imagine you found a new job.” She half commented, half asked, squinting one eye and overall giving him a very uncertain expression. At least he’s pretty sure that’s what that meant. The extranet had been somewhat helpful with reading human facial expressions, if only he could remember some of the stranger ones he’d seen.

What really caught his attention though… Shepard had recalled the issues he’d mentioned regarding his relationship with his father aboard the SSV. Not only did she remember _herself_ , she remembered specific conversations she had with others on her crew. Several times since he’d re-joined the Normandy, his curiosity gripped him, ‘Is Shepard still herself?’… as far as he was concerned, it was small things like this that proved it. 

“I sort of tried both… I called my dad when things got rough on Omega just before you showed up.” He huffed a disbelieving laugh.

Her eyes widened slightly and he offered an amused grin in response.

“How’d it go?” she pondered aloud.

“Good. Good, actually. He heard all the gun fire… originally I told him it was just target practice, but it became pretty obvious target practice was moving towards me quickly and firing back. So, I thanked him for what he’d taught me when I was younger. I honestly had no idea if I’d make it out of there… He once again reminded me of some of those old lessons just before my reticle landed on your N7. Told him I had to go, but that I meant what I’d said. I didn’t wait for him to say goodbye before hanging up.” He said shaking his head, still staring at the ground.

She remained silent, watching him with an intense expression as always, but it was clear she was calm and didn’t mind listening.

A moment went by as he reminisced upon the previous two years. “Anyway, after the business with Saren and Sovereign, well… I technically never resigned from my position at C-Sec, and they were still lacking in recruits. So, they reinstated me, albeit temporarily…” He finished with a slightly amused and disbelieving chuckle.

“What ended your C-Sec reign?” She quipped in return.

He huffed a laugh again lifting his head to look at her, an amused crinkle in his eyes, “You know me… too much red tape, the law trying its best to get in the way of justice being served to the people who deserved it.”

A moment went by when they both remained silent, he shifted his gaze temporarily to the wall behind her as he began speaking before meeting her gaze again, “Do you remember Dr. Saleon?”

“How could I forget?” Shepard asked looking at him with a disbelieving expression. “Fucked up-“ she commented shaking her head and glancing at his clasped hands absentmindedly.

For a few moments, he observed her in silence before speaking honestly, “I’ve learned a lot from you. I… realized a little too late that I learned a lot of things from a lot of people I cared about.”

In the moment he was talking about his mom, his dad, Shepard… his own gaze now resting on her hands clasped in her own lap.

“What do you mean by a little too late?” Shepard asked gently.

It was clear she wanted to learn more about him, but the way she asked was different from how Yeoman Chambers might. Here, he was speaking to a friend. Despite that, he didn’t quite know how to answer her question just yet either. He thought about it for a moment, and his mind wandered to the things Shepard had taught him in his time aboard the SSV.

He raised his head and looked across the room for a moment, “You know, I thought I’d seen every weapon in the galaxy in our fight against Saren…” He started, standing and walking back to the console, resting his hands on it for a moment before turning to face her again, leaning back once more against the edge, hands braced on the surface now behind him, “Mercenary work showed me otherwise.”

Lifting his hand in a casual gesture, he continued, “And now Cerberus rebuilds the Normandy with a few upgrades to boot. I wish we’d joined up with them sooner.” He’d tried to make it obvious it was mostly a joke, but apparently his tone hadn’t quite carried it as he’d hoped.  

Shepard’s visage tensed, and venom dripped from her mouth temporarily as she hissed, “We haven’t _joined_ Cerberus… They’re funding our mission. That’s all.”

With a now tired sound in his voice he held up a hand in surrender, “Relax, Shepard. Just a figure of speech. I haven’t doubted your judgement so far, and I haven’t seen a good reason to start doubting you now.” He confirmed, maintaining eye contact with her to convey sincerity.

For a split second his mind warned him that he’d just told Shepard… his Commander to _relax_ while she was upset at something he’d said, but… it didn’t seem to faze her. If anything, she did relax when he’d explained it was just a figure of speech. The part that had upset her was his conveying approval for Cerberus’s support.

Past experience had warned him to be careful of emotional reactions in situations like that, but the reality of who Shepard really was had just reassured him. She clearly appreciated someone who valued her tenacity, intellect, and logical reasoning since she, herself, logically carried her way through nearly all of her emotions. Shepard was definitely logic-before-emotion unless someone threatened her crew… or if someone ignored evidence in a trial for the sake of saving-face. The memory of watching her argue with the council made his jaw twitch slightly in amusement.

She posed a question to him, interrupting his thoughts, “How’d you end up fighting mercenaries on Omega instead of staying with C-Sec on the Citadel? The environments aren’t exactly analogous.”

He motioned toward her with an open hand, “Precisely. Omega was _exactly_ what I needed at the time. Everything I’d heard made it sound like it was _filled_ with criminals nobody else could _touch_. Somehow jurisdiction never seemed to survive long enough to make a real difference… and people there needed someone to believe in… You saw Omega, it was full of _thugs_ kicking the helpless. I formed my team to _kick_ _back_. With no bureaucracy to slow me down, my hands were pretty full.”

With an understanding nod, she pressed, “That explains how you got started, but how’d you end up with a squad?” she asked standing from the cot and walking to lean against the side of the door, crossing her arms casually. Most likely so she wouldn’t be talking up at him so much. Maybe he should have stayed seated on the crate next to her…

He gestured toward her once more with an open hand, “Not all that different from how you formed your squad to fight Saren, actually. My first recruit was a turian I met beneath Afterlife, Sidonis. Something happened between him and a krogan. So, I tossed the krogan, and Sidonis and I were rewarded with a rather _interesting_ bar fight. It didn’t take long to discover Sidonis and I shared similar views about the crime on Omega, but he didn’t think one person could get enough done to make a difference.”

He crossed his arms, casting his gaze towards the ceiling, lost in memory for a moment before continuing, “I suppose Sidonis gave _me_ hope about actually getting things done on that rock. After each successful take-down more people took notice… more people wanted to join our cause. As a group we adopted the title Archangel. It was a bit of a calling card, I suppose, if a merc was left alive to deliver a message it was always along the lines of, “Tell them Archangel sends his regards.” Something cheesy, but easy to remember. The name Archangel took root pretty quickly in local, then regional, mercs groups and fully-fledged gangs.”

Shepard was grinning, somewhat amused… probably at the whole Archangel thing.

He shook his head, also somewhat entertained, “The Archangel thing was a safety tactic for me and my squad. Make them think there was someone bigger than us calling the shots so we wouldn’t be directly targeted. And it worked… for a while… After meeting Sidonis and taking on larger problems, recruit numbers started to increase.”

Pausing momentarily, he faced her more squarely, “ _Just_ how you taught me, you prove that you get things done and people join up, _regardless_ of opposition from big-names. _I_ gave them hope!…”

The statement was true, but far more flamboyant than he’d anticipated as he took a few steps toward her and gestured with open arms like a savior, before dropping them to his side again and shaking his head, looking away from her.

The emphatic statement followed now by a hushed, “…and now they’re all dead… Shows what I know.”

Her expression conveyed curious concern, but she looked more like she was thinking really hard, more than she was about to comfort him in his misfortune. Just as it should be. He greatly appreciated her lack of pity and preference toward solving problems.

“Tell me about your squad.” She said raising her chin slightly in a bit of an authoritative manner.

Honestly, he’d much rather not go into the details of everything that happened, but with a problem solver like Shepard standing before him, there was no way he’d get out of it forever.

With a sigh, he complied, “There were twelve of us, including me. I had ex-military ops, former C-Sec agents tired of playing by the rules, the usual. Had a Salarian explosives expert. Pretty sure he'd spent some time in the STG. My tech expert was a Batarian, believe it or not, not the friendliest guy, but he could hack _any_ system ever built. We made money by taking down slavers, pirates, or gangs that went too far. We'd aim for hitting their shipments, disrupting activities, getting under their skin… making them angry.”

She opened her mouth once to speak before shutting it again, clearly thinking through what he’d just said. A moment passed before she asked, “Can you clarify? At the moment it sounds like you started a _new_ gang.”

He shook his head, “Then I’m saying it wrong, we didn’t shake anyone down. No civilian casualties.” He emphasized the statement by rapidly moving his hand downwards and diagonally in a chopping motion, “That was our rule. Every member of my team had already lost someone on the streets of Omega.”

For a moment he recapped on what he’d said before continuing to explain, “We weren’t out to get rich, we were out to make those bastards think twice before murdering someone in the streets. We. Declared. _War._ on Omega's top gangs. I eventually prodded them enough and earned my spot at the top three competing bands’ hit lists. Didn’t take long until they united to take me down.” He finished the sentence with an air of confidence.

A twinge of amusement coated his tongue as he remarked, tipping his head back slightly, “My manager at C-Sec would be proud.”

He took a moment to appreciate the mental image of his manager’s jaw dropping in shock, before he reoriented his thoughts and continued, “They'd come charging right into our well-prepared kill zones. Crossfire and snipers, clean and surgical. They never stood a chance.”

“I don’t understand,-” she started, gesturing with an open hand towards him, “-your operation was smart and well prepared. So, how did the mercenaries take down your team?” She asked gently.

His brow tensed and he shook his head, with a sigh that sounded close to a growl. “It was my own damn fault. One of my people betrayed me. The interest for incoming credits and a potential future of peace for the _individual_ was muddying the waters, and I didn’t pay enough attention to it.” His face contorted to clearly show angry disapproval.

Stating it aloud made him realize momentarily how satisfying it would be to tear something apart with his hands just then, “My goal wasn’t just to make Omega _better_ … I wanted to _purge_ it.” He conveyed with a frustrated wave of his hand. “but my own damn _feelings_ blinded me… obstructed the unanimity of my team. Either I couldn’t see it somehow, or I ignored all the cracks in the corners.”

Amidst his malice, he met Shepard’s eyes and momentarily realized how relaxed and thoughtful she appeared, leaning against the wall across from him. For as angry as he clearly was, she didn’t appear in the least bit afraid. She had trusted him with her life so many times, and vice versa, it hadn’t occurred to him before then he might be intimidating to someone like her. She’d dealt with Wrex and now Grunt, but his armor made him appear nearly as large, and he naturally stood taller.

The split second in which he realized she was relaxed, simply _listening_ to him speak, calmed his mind slightly as well. She wasn’t asking him to justify the choices he made, she merely wanted the facts.

With a calming sigh, but with obvious tension remaining in his voice, he continued, “Sidonis called me. Said he’d gotten into a bit of trouble going solo. A band of mercs were smuggling weapons and the operation was apparently more than he could handle alone. He needed my help…”

Each sentence intensified with a tone so deep at times it nearly hit a growl, “When I finally got there… Nothing… No trace of gun running, no evidence of recent merc activity… and of course no sign of Sidonis. It didn't make sense at first.”

He shook his head, pushing away from the console and pacing away a few steps within the small room before turning to face her again, “By the time I made it back, the _truth_ hit like a dozen krogan on fire... Everyone but me is dead because of him and because I was so focused on...”

 

Silence filled the room as Shepard considered the scenario, his gaze fixating her in an expression nearly befitting a snarl. It took a moment for him to realize it before his eyes softened and he broke vision with her gaze, crossing his arms and leaning back against the console once more. 

_‘I was so focused on what I thought needed to be done… Justice over personal desire.’_

Justice over personal desire had been a theme he’d solidified from watching Shepard. He recalled her agreement to destroy Saren at any given chance rather than turning him in, but upon reflection, he now saw how much care Shepard put into each of her team members regardless of how much she despised small talk with others. Her dislike of small talk had always been obvious to him from watching her interactions with Ashley while aboard the SSV, but apparently Williams never noticed.

Shepard had always listened to _his_ thoughts on how to approach life. She helped him catch Saleon, even let him take complete control of the situation once aboard. She’d supported his individuality every step of the way, but ensured he stayed on-task amidst it all. Shepard had taken the time to learn about Quarian and Geth history… she always listened to Ashley’s judgmental speeches and reminiscing about her family… She dedicated the time to slowly fishing personal and cultural stories out of Wrex.

Shepard had shown care for each individual and priority for every goal, and _once again_ he’d missed an important detail. His dedication to the goal _couldn’t continue_ to blind him towards the people around him. It had cost him the lives of ten comrades already and he wasn’t going to let it happen again. Sidonis had only wanted to ensure financial security and potentially hope filled lives to return to upon any claimed victory with the funds they’d gathered and refused to use thus far for anything but necessities … and he’d denied Sidonis the chance to pursue that goal…

 

Shepard’s next question broke his train of thought, “Is there any chance it wasn’t a betrayal? That the mercs maybe got Sidonis first?”

“No.” he said matter-of-fact. His gaze shifted to the floor for a moment before returning to her own. “I put out feelers with some old contacts. He booked transport off Omega _just_ before the attack. He also cleared out his private accounts before he left… He _sold me out_ and _ran_.”

Garrus’s lack of care for Sidonis’s interests had created incentive for him to take things into his own hands, but the way he’d done so was beyond forgivable. Sidonis knew what would happen when he lured Garrus away from the compound, and he’d been perfectly fine with the consequences… Ten lives… Ten _comrade lives_ , and clearly he was hoping for eleven.

Shepard’s own gaze was steely as she observed him, “Do you have any idea where he is now?”

He shook his head and gestured with his shoulders, “No. His trail vanishes after he leaves Omega… but I’ll keep _hunting_.”

The last word punctuated with unyielding fortitude as he took a few steps back towards Shepard, “I lost my _whole team_ except for Sidonis. One day, I’ll _find him_ , and correct that.” He finished, lifting his chin, and looking down at her a bit more than natural.

He watched as Shepard’s expression shifted from pensive concern and problem solving, to a proud smirk.

“Thanks for telling me what happened, Garrus.” She said crossing her arms and looking at him with undeserved approval. “And if you hear anything else about his location… I’ll help you deal with him. Regardless of why he did what he did, he killed a lot of people who didn’t deserve it… Keep me posted.”

“I will.” He said offering an affirming nod.

 


	4. 4. June, Garrus

 

 

[Interview; Subject: Garrus Vakarian; late year 2189 CE, 3 years post Reaper Destruction.]

 

 

A small chuckle broke the momentary silence. The laugh itself somewhat mixed with pain and longing.

“Shepard would regularly complain or make sarcastic comments about the amount of fighting everyone had to go through to get anything done.” He started, leaning back a bit in his chair and crossing his arms.

It didn’t really seem possible that a full-grown turian could really look old or young, but the way he carried himself now was… worn. It was clear he was tired. I wondered briefly how long he’d been _constantly_ tired.

He lifted a hand and pointed in my general direction, non-threateningly, but as if he was pointing towards a thought in his mind. His hand was bouncing up and down slightly, his face turned to the side looking at the wall rather than at me, clearly attempting to hold on to the thought long enough to put it into words.

“But it was… always in those, few moments, _just_ before a fight. She seemed to… _center_ herself by, just, being _aware_ of my presence. Even if the only opportunity to do so was-“

He once again interrupted himself with an unrepressed huff of a chuckle, “-before jumping out of the shuttle into oncoming bullet fire. _Of course,_ it was easier to notice when we agreed to start dating... probably because then _I_ was doing the same thing.”

Now he offered a true laugh, “One- hah –ohh, one of my more embarrassing moments speaking with her, applies, to this scenario. We’d agreed to, ah, _spend_ an _evening_ together just before our first supposed suicide mission, in 2185. Our _first_ …” he trailed off for a moment shaking his head, reminiscing and clearly amused.

“I had requested we wait as _long as_ possible, beforehand, to try and keep the rest of the crew focused. I _suppose_ it was more of an excuse to… study, how exactly to- eh-… but, anyway, I was trying to be smug… play off my nerves with humor, as I usually did, and-“ He laughs again, his jaw twitching in response.

“My brain, comes up with this… _horrible_ metaphor. I said “You know me, I always like to savor that last shot before popping the heat sink.” ”

It was my turn to laugh. I covered my mouth with a hand and looked at him with highly amused pity.

“She just… stood there, her arms crossed, staring at me with the most dubious smirk. And-heh- she did that little, raise one eyebrow thing… At that point, I’d gotten _better_ at reading human facial expressions, but it still took me longer than it should have to process why she’d be looking at me like that. _Spirits_ , I spent _the rest of the day_ mocking myself for that one.”

He paused, arms crossed once again, shaking his head, but clearly smiling a little bit.

“It applies to entering a battle together though… We’d take that last possible moment to look at one another. We didn’t have to say anything. That last thing to savor before jumping into the fire.”

 

 

\--- ---

 

[2185, Sol System month of “June”; Horizon]

 

 

“What the _fuck_ **is** this thing?!” Shepard shouted annoyed as hell as the giant Praetorian floated above the various conveniently placed platforms, truck beds, and crates amidst the now Husk and Collector littered battle field.

“Large Husk-like creature. Capable of immense damage! Biotic barrier protecting shields. Recommend, _Warp Ammunition_ to **drain** initial barrier!” Mordin shouted in return.

Shepard, of course, already had warp ammo equipped on one weapon and disruptor ammo in the other, but this thing was getting on her nerves. The sheer number of times she had yelled at it in fury was compounding Garrus’s amusement.

The Commander had two main modes of operation mid-battle: one was intensely focused, most of her comments were whispered to herself, other comments were the offering of occasional thanks or recommendation to a crew member regarding the most efficient way to get through the field while taking minimal damage; however, her second top mode of operation involved a lot of expletives, general yelling, and somewhat regular _actual snarling_. Currently, the Praetorian targeting _her_ specifically, was _really_ getting her going in mode two…

Once again she was sent staggering away from cover via impact with the blue shockwave it sent out.

“Mother FUCKER!” Shepard shouted as her shields once again began to drain far too rapidly in the fire of its particle beam as she slid behind a low platform for cover. A moment later she placed a fist on the ground, growled at the situation she was in with incredible hostility, re-aimed and continued firing, running toward a truck bed for cover, tossing heat sinks so quickly they followed her like a trail of confetti.

Despite how terrifying this thing was, Garrus couldn’t help but accept the chuckles making his shoulders shake in response to Shepard’s Viking warrior mood. Thankfully this thing was so huge he didn’t have to be very precise in his aiming.

He loved this side of her, genuinely. She was always so calm, serious, collected, then she got out on the battle field and if something really started to piss her off, all hell broke loose from her soul in a way nothing else could elicit. Her occasional anger outbursts mid-battle were so pure and un-regulated, the experience was refreshing and highly entertaining to observe.

Mordin’s shocked expression, the first time he’d heard Shepard’s unadulterated battle rage, made Garrus laugh aloud before attempting to calm the chuckles still bubbling in his chest. Laughing on the battle field was something he’d never imagined experiencing before he met Shepard. She’d never been genuinely mad at Garrus for laughing at her, if anything, she seemed to appreciate his banter in a playfully-heated kind of way.

“Having fun, Shepard?” Garrus called out as he fired another round into the ugly mass floating in a circular dance opposite Shepard as she sprinted to a new area of cover.

“Yeah, laugh your ass off, Vakarian. Had that annoying Harbinger bitch and now-” she called out, her sentence cut short by another particle beam blast. With another vicious growl, she ducked behind cover and pulled out the heat-guided missile launcher she’d picked up from… somewhere. Where the hell did she get some of these weapons and why couldn’t _he_ have one of those?

‘dink, dink, dink, dink,’ She fired off four rounds, each followed by a rather satisfying explosion.

The flesh-based freak of non-nature appeared to be wearing down. The damn thing could reset its biotic barrier every few hits, but Shepard was getting through its shields pretty steadily.

Shepard bolted towards Garrus’s position and slid next to him behind cover, panting slightly as her shields recharged. He stood and fired another round into it just as its biotic barrier refilled and it rose once more from the ground to resume its reign of terror.

“Should have equipped that extended barrel I gave you.” He said as he finished reloading a round in the chamber and stood to fire again.

“Don’t need it. I’ve got this thing.” She said standing up again and firing her little automatic pistol at it.

He barked a laugh in response as his practiced hands reloaded the sniper’s chamber while watching her, “Ohhh. _Wow_.” Sarcasm dripping from his voice as he shifted his position and fired once again.

“Warp Ammo, baby!” she exclaimed before they dove away from one another to avoid a shock wave as it rippled between them and the Praetorian appeared over the bed of the truck, floating disgustingly overhead.

“Shepard!” Mordin called out, tossing a heatsink her way.

Catching it she called out, “Where did you find this?!” Immediately exchanging the one in her pistol with the fresh one he’d given her.

“Whole crate, over there! Creature focused on you. Searched for reserves!”

“Mordin, you’re the best!” She called out making eye contact with Garrus and offering a smug grin. Her pleased expression was met with Garrus’s own challenging gaze.  

“I know!” Mordin called out in response and Shepard barked a laugh. What a precious, wicked smart, terrifying, former STG Salarian she had on her team now.

The Praetorian’s biotic barrier had drained once again and it was clearly holding on to its last thread of existence as Shepard pulled out her missile launcher with a flourish.

“Would you just _die already_!” she shouted, exasperated, as she drained the remaining ammo toward the pulsating monstrosity.

Apparently the floating flesh miscreation had the same opinion of Shepard, and in its last moments alive, it fired one more particle beam, hitting Shepard across the leg as she attempted to dive out of the way. The flexible mesh of her armor burned her under armor layer and melted slightly to her skin when the shields drained. Calling out in agony for a moment she ducked behind cover attempting to see straight amidst the searing pain, adrenaline keeping her functional as she applied medigel through the areas of her suit that were still functional enough to apply it.

Mordin and Garrus bolted out of cover and ran to her side as the flesh blob offered up its last few haunting squeals of hatred before finally dying. She exhaled forcefully a few times, still attempting to see straight through the pain, as modern medicine magic quickly played its part and eased her pain. The gel spread over the surface of her leg like a cooling agent and placed a smooth barrier between her skin and the rough partly burned mesh of her armor.

Garrus offered a hand to help her stand up and she nodded, grasping his forearm as he pulled her to her feet. She clapped a hand on his torso as thanks before turning and looking with a squinting expression at the Collector ship as it prepared to take off. The technician she’d met earlier ran out blaming her for losing the colony in the ship.

There was nothing else they could do, so Shepard pulled on the tube connected to her water pouch and rehydrated for a moment as another figure approached from behind a pile of transport crates singing Shepard’s praises with a near worshiping tone.

A moment later, Ashley enhanced the worshiping tone of voice by declaring they were all in the presence of a god. The phrase was highly unexpected from Ashley in particular. She’d once mentioned she believed in only one god. Letting the water tube drop from the corner of her mouth as Ashley approached, Shepard wondered for a moment if this was actually going to be a casual, civil reconnection. 

Shepard nodded to her and clasped her hand, “Good to see you, Williams. How have you been?”

 

It seemed like a fairly appropriate question for not having seen a friend in several years. It was clear Shepard had expected a casual re-introduction to her old comrade, but Ashley, as always, responded in a more emotionally explosive way. Garrus strained not to roll his eyes at Ashley’s flamboyant response, but when she looked at him and remarked with disbelief that he was also working with Cerberus, he conveyed there was a logical reason for working with them for now, but Ashley was so emotionally tied to one set of ideals, she refused to consider the other side of the coin.

When Ashley nearly spat in Shepard’s face, accusing her of being a traitor, a phrase Liara once said came to mind: _‘urge to kill, rising’_.

With considerable effort, and respect for the conversation _Shepard_ was having with Ashley, he remained silent. Shepard could defend herself against Ashley’s predictable volatility.

When Williams shook her head and turned to leave, Garrus stared daggers at her back as she walked away. Instead of calling out for her to return, Shepard turned to face him and lightly clapped a hand on his upper arm to wordlessly convey ‘let her go’. His gaze left Ashley and softened upon meeting Shepard’s sardonic ’well that was fun’ expression.

Mordin piped in, “Highly emotional. Needs practice developing _listening_ skills. Look for more probable objectives… _logical_ conclusions.”

Garrus and Shepard offered simultaneous derisive snorts. Shepard put a hand on her hip as the shuttle came down to pick them up and shook her head, “… you have no idea.”

 

\---

 

“Hey Commander, heard you saw Ash down on Horizon. That must have been _fun_.” Joker said as Shepard walked up behind him.

Crossing her arms and staring out the front window she remarked, “I feel so at a loss when talking with emotional people. That situation could have been handled rather easily, casually, and with both of us leaving on good terms, but for some reason she blew up in my face.”

Joker offered a somewhat amused chuckle, “Well, I mean… come on, Commander, like you really didn’t expect that? It’s _Ashley_.”

Shepard sighed and glanced at the back of Joker’s chair for a moment, “I did somewhat expect it, but the way she handled it was-“

“-like a whiny child who had her favorite toy stolen, then offered back to her, only to find they dyed its fur a different color.” Joker attempted to finish for her.

“Uh- I- sure, something like that.” Shepard remarked, allowing the corner of her mouth to twitch in a grin. She never would have thought to explain it that way, but his analysis amused her.

 


	5. 5. June, Dr. T'Soni

[2185, Sol System month of “June”; Illium]

 

“Have you ever faced an _asari, commando unit_ before? Few humans _have_.” The artfully crafted threat flowed through the room on a tone of voice like finely woven silk cloth.

Garrus and Shepard both attempted to stifle a laugh in their throats as they heard the phrase. Lady Benezia had used that exact same threat on them only a few years previous.

Liara’s back was to the door, her focus centered on a hologram of a client, “I’ll make it simple. Either you _pay me_ , or I flay you alive.”

The very serious threat coming from _Liara_ caused them both to exchange wide eyed glances.

“Shepard!” Liara exclaimed, startled at having been overheard.

“Oh… _Shepard_.” Liara sighed as she approached the Commander with arms outspread.

Garrus and Kasumi observed with shared amusement as Shepard’s body language conveyed overt discomfort. The commander’s face was blank for a split second as her mind attempted to process what actions she wanted to take in the scenario. Veiling her hesitation, Shepard opened her arms in return to accept the hug. It wasn’t often the Commander froze, and Garrus had never anticipated he’d see it response to a friend offering affection.

When Liara released her from the hug, she walked behind her desk and sat down, “My sources said you were alive, but I found it difficult to believe.” 

“Sources?” Shepard asked, raising an eyebrow. Initially she sat back casually, crossing one leg over the other in a 4 position.

Liara returned to her side of the desk and briefly discussed her climb through the unofficial ranks of information brokering and her personal vendetta against the Shadow Broker itself.

Garrus grinned as Shepard’s entire body language shifted and she leaned forward in her seat, clasping her hands in front of her chest. Liara had finally piqued her interest. The Shadow Broker itself… It was clear Shepard wanted to pursue the conversation, but a moment later she leaned back again, dropping the topic completely.

 

Thinking back, the conversation Shepard started with him only days ago regarding his situation on Omega still hit in the back of his mind like a tiny hammer, particularly his analysis of how she balanced mission objectives with dedication to crew individuality. His head shot back an inch or so in surprise when Shepard followed up the brief conversation with asking Liara instead for information on the two new Cerberus approved recruits supposedly currently on Illium. Shepard deliberately _chose_ not to pursue the Shadow Broker conversation even though it would help Liara. He squinted slightly, attempting to analyze the situation.

 

Liara was no longer a crew member aboard the Normandy, and he’d just overheard her turn down Shepard’s casual offer to return to that status. Perhaps that was a distinguishing factor for Shepard’s motivations. A moment later he also realized Liara hadn’t explicitly asked for anyone’s help with finding or confronting the Shadow Broker. Without more information, Shepard appeared unwilling to jump into a risk that had nothing to do with her current mission.

A few days ago, Garrus had formed the impression Shepard held friendly / crew mate requests rather highly regardless of the circumstances. Here, he was discovering his hypothesis, once again, to be slightly misconstrued. Shepard helped people she didn’t know _at all_ rather regularly, but she always accomplished the extraneous tasks _as_ she pursued her own objective. His jaw twitched slightly in a grin, currently pleased with his analysis of Shepard’s multi-tasking preferences. Every time he attempted to understand her motivations, and how her mind worked, his respect for her grew.

Shepard worked with her crew so unlike anything he’d previously experienced. The COs he’d learned from made a point of telling their crew that the main mission _always_ came first. Making personal requests of any kind were highly looked down upon by higher-ups and comrades. Of course, Shepard was different.

Liara’s farewell to Shepard drifted through his inner thoughts and the commander stood to leave. Kasumi and Garrus followed her silently out of Liara’s office, but he nodded respectfully to her as he left. Calmly, she returned the silent goodbye with a pleasant smile.

 

\--- ---

 

[2185, Sol System month of “July”; Normandy SR-2]

 

Reclining on her bed, Shepard checked her mail via tablet. All of the crew dossiers The Illusive Man sent her, and all of the people she personally hoped to find were now aboard the ship. They’d found Tali yesterday. It was obvious Tali had grown up a lot in the last two years. She’d been given her own squad, a ship, _and_ a lot of responsibilities. She doubted she’d ever actually tell Tali this, but after interacting with Kal'Reegar for a few minutes, and when he limped into the room at the end of the fight, Shepard forcefully restrained herself from elbowing Tali with a smug grin. For as tough as Shepard always appeared to be, finding potentially stable and rewarding relationships amongst the people she cared for, was highly gratifying to think about.

Her mind had been wandering, and she realized she’d been re-reading the same paragraph for about three minutes. Placing the tablet beside her, she turned her gaze to the fish tanks. Thane Krios, the assassin, had been a very… interesting addition to the crew. His personality was a very strange mix of being easy to read while also feeling completely clueless. Both Thane and Samara had been aboard the Normandy for about a week now and the conversations Shepard had with both of them had been incredibly interesting.

The cultures of both individuals were fascinating. Samara was nearly impossible to read, and usually that would make Shepard uncomfortable, but the whole Justicar Code thing seemed to be… _real_ , and thus trustworthy. The first few times she’d heard about it, the concept didn’t quite make sense. Shepard’s first instinct told her that it would be nearly impossible to trust Samara’s unnaturally calm demeanor, but after interacting with her more, learning her body language and speech patterns, and the clear sincerity in Samara’s words, Shepard began to relax a bit more in her presence. Samara, despite the turmoil she created when she felt compelled by the code to do so, naturally created a peaceful atmosphere when she had the opportunity. 

Thane on the other hand… for some reason interacting with him was difficult for Shepard. He also conveyed sincerity in the things he talked about, and she knew he also had a difficult past, but his base personality, for whatever reason, didn’t quite make sense to her. Interacting with him more in the last week or so hadn’t been helping much either. Perhaps she just needed to give him a bit more time to adjust to this vast difference in life style, but every time Shepard entered his room, she felt a natural state of unrest fall over her.

Sighing, Shepard shook her head slightly and picked up the tablet again. While she’d been thinking about the scenarios of the past weeks, a message from Garrus had appeared in her inbox.

Shepard,

I got a message from my sister. When you have a moment, I’d like to speak with you.

-Garrus

 

_He has a sister?_

 

Without hesitation, she let the tablet fall to the bed and scooted off the end, bouncing slightly at the foot of the bed to propel her forward toward the door. 


	6. 6. July, Garrus

 

[2185, Sol System month of “July”; Normandy SR-2]

 

 

“Shepard… Thanks for being willing to speak with me.” He said turning to face her as soon as she opened the door. He attempted to keep his posture loose and casual, but it wasn’t at all what he was feeling.

“Of course. Is everything okay?” She asked crossing her arms casually and staring up with a curious expression.

He took a deep breath and closed the door behind her, before lifting up his omnitool and playing the recorded message of his sister’s communication.

The audio waveform on screen bounced as the recording began.

“ _Garrus_? For _once_ please answer… God _damn_ this comm service...”

“Solana? I'm here, what's wrong?”

“ _Garrus?"_   She asked, sounding more than a little surprised. A sound like a quick sigh escaped her mouth before she spoke again, "I don’t know where you’re at now and the last I heard you talked to dad while somewhere in the Omega Nebula… but _Vallum_ was just attacked.”

“ _What?_ Is everyone safe? What happened?”

“Yeah, I’m fine, dad's fine, mom's-... We were nowhere near the attack..." She paused, apparently feeling awkward now, uncertain of how to continue the conversation, but she was clearly tense, "Dad told me about the last conversation he had with you… and…" Something reminiscent of an angry huff escaped her nose before she swore, " _Damn it,_ Garrus, we didn’t know if you made it out of whatever the hell it was you were doing,  _alive,_  mom's been worried sick, and apparently  _no one_  has been able to reach you since… What the hell are you doing _now_?”

He paused, mulling over her question before responding, “I’m _safe_ , a little torn up, but alive. Sorry about the drop in correspondence.”

A derisive snort escaped her nose, " _Yeah_ , well...“

An awkward pause filled the indeterminable space between them, "What happened in Vallum?" Garrus asked resolutely.

Sighing heavily, she explained, “The Hierarchy was trying to keep details of the attack from being released initially, but a terrorist group publicly took responsibility for the attack. The group’s name started with an F. Factus, Facinus… something like that. They slammed a starship at near FTL straight into Vallum." She paused, and sighed, " _Spirits_ … so many people are dead. I'm sure you're working on something under the radar, again. Mom just-... _we_  just wanted to see if we could reach you and make sure you're... _okay_.”

“I’m fine, Solana. Do you need me to -“

“-No. I'm sure you're attempting to tackle some impossible cause all on your own… Plus, the entire Hierarchy is trying to track these guys down… I… don’t have much more information for you right now, but I think this Facinus group is trying to start a civil war. I won’t be anywhere near the area, and I don’t see why dad or mom would be either, but I thought you should know so you don’t worry if you hear more news later.”

 

Garrus stopped the recording and stared at Shepard with a resolute expression. “Of all the times to start a war, hm?” He said sighing, crossing his arms and leaning back against the console.

“Garrus, if you want to find your sister and see her in person-“

He didn’t say anything, but shook his head slowly, cutting off her statement with his own silence.

“Why not?” Shepard asked furrowing her brow.

“My family should still be somewhere on Palaven. It’s in a nearby system, but I don’t see the war reaching them just yet unless there are multiple factions targeting all our homeworlds.”

He shook his head and looked up at the ceiling, “Will it ever be possible for things to be peaceful?”

Shepard huffed a laugh and walked toward him, arms still crossed, until she stood next to him, also leaning back against the console. She turned her head to look up at him and he returned her glance, somewhat.

Not bothering to turn his head, he held her gaze through the blue tint of his headset as she spoke, “Peace will probably never reach a global or galaxy wide scale. The most we can do, I think, is try to help those with us find it and figure out how to create it for ourselves. In all the chaos, we’ve got to remember to appreciate what we’re currently doing, regardless of how small, and find the right people to help us through the worst of it.”

He huffed a disbelieving laugh before sighing and acknowledging she was right. Nodding his head in agreement, he turned his face toward her a bit more and observed her for a moment as she remained, gazing up at him. “What?” he asked.

Shepard grinned and turned her gaze casually toward the door, “I’m glad you joined up on the SSV. You’re a valuable asset to this operation, Garrus. I’d have - …” she huffed a laugh and shook her head, “When we first brought you back to the Normandy after Omega I thought we’d lost you.”

Her tone of voice was matter of fact, not particularly emotional.

Offering an emotionless chuckle, he countered, “When I stood up again, Dr. Chakwas handed me the profile Miranda put together for us all to read about _your_ recovery.”

She shook her head, looking at the ground, and remained silent for a moment, the corner of her mouth barely tweaked in a side-grin.

He continued, “You-ah… I heard the whole thing. Didn’t…” he cleared his throat and continued, “Didn’t think it could be possible to come back from _that_.” His voice was hushed, and quite a bit more emotional than he’d anticipated.

“Heard?” she questioned, looking up at him once again.

He shook his head attempting to dismiss the question, “Thanks for coming by, Shepard. Believe it or not, this damn gun still needs calibrating.”

In a moment of selfish insensitivity for the commander’s presence, Garrus turned around, pulling the command prompt up once again on a screen that caused him to turn away from Shepard.

The conversation was clearly over, so she waited a few more seconds where she was, attempting to analyze the situation. He was clearly emotional about something, but obviously didn’t feel like discussing it. Quietly, she pushed away from the console behind her and left the room without another word between them.

When the doors closed behind her, he braced his hands on the console before him and watched as several tears fell all at once onto the surface below. His face held no emotion other than the distant and harsh look in his eyes. His vision clouded, slightly, two tears now clinging to his face and dripping into the side of his mouth. Memories were colliding in his mind, twisting together, and forming a terrible _aching_ concoction of thoughts. The sounds of his mother’s slow shallow breathing contrasted with-

“Fifteen minutes.”

He inhaled deeply as EDI’s voice calmly announced the amount of time left until they were to head out on their next assignment. Clearing his throat, he took another deep breath, fixing his gaze on the back wall of the red-lit room. The conversation he’d just forcefully ended with Shepard, he knew, wasn’t truly over. She might let it drop for a while, but he knew she’d remember someday.

 

\---

 

[2185, Sol System month of “July”; Normandy SR-2]

 

 

Kasumi uncloaked and stood by the elevator doors, waiting for Tali to emerge from Engineering. When the Engineering doors opened, Kasumi grinned, straightened up, and began whispering.

“Tali, Tali… You’re about to head out so I’ll keep this short. You, Shepard, and Garrus are pretty close, right? Like, you know their body language and the way they talk pretty well by now...” Kasumi asked with her constant little grin showing from within her dark hood.

“I joined Shepard on the original SSV a little while after Garrus did…” Tali responded, a bit unsure how to answer her questions, as she attempted to step into the elevator.

“When you’re on _the shuttle_ …” Kasumi started slowly once again, “just watch how much Garrus and Shepard communicate without ever making a sound… Seriously, I ship it.” Kasumi said with a hushed but clearly enthusiastic tone.

Tali froze momentarily, “You _ship it_? Like…” she questioned, startled, unsure how to finish her sentence.

“Well, I mean… they might not be together, _yet_ … but _just watch_.” Kasumi insisted with a wry grin before cloaking and disappearing from sight.

 

Once she reached the cargo bay, Tali found Garrus already waiting, talking casually with their shuttle pilot. After a short greeting, the three of them entered the shuttle just as Shepard stepped out of the elevator and made her way toward the aircraft.

As Shepard’s hand connected with the metal rail just inside the door, Garrus made sharp eye contact with her to silently communicate that he was adequately prepared for this assignment despite their previous abruptly ended conversation. His gaze was harsh, his chin closer to his chest, eyes looking up at her at a sharp angle beneath the brow. It looked almost like he was angry, but just as quickly as she’d locked eyes with him, he raised his chin, softening his gaze. She stared at him for a moment longer, in the blink of an eye scrutinizing his body language before she looked away and nodded slowly in understanding as she turned to walk towards their shuttle pilot at the helm.

No one would be able to tell how intently Tali was watching the two of them interact. Perhaps that was the main reason Kasumi had asked her to be the observer… If something was really happening between Shepard and Garrus, there was no way in any of the hells Tali was going to turn a blind eye to it. In the short time Tali had been aboard the Normandy once again, she’d been impressed with some of the people Shepard had managed to recruit. She hadn’t anticipated making friends with anyone upon the now _Cerberus_ ship she didn’t already know, but the people recruited for the ground team weren’t really here _for_ Cerberus. In the last week, Kasumi and Tali had shared several stories, and they were both genuinely interested in one another’s past. Kasumi was quickly becoming a friend, and if she thought Garrus or Shepard might be concentrating on each other, Tali had little reason to doubt her intel.

Hoping to possibly pry the situation open a bit more, as Shepard sat down in her own seat across from her and Garrus, Tali inquired, “Shepard? We have two snipers aboard the Normandy now, not including you… and yet you always bring Garrus. You never bring Thane.”

 

-

 

Curiosity flickered through Garrus’s eyes as Tali finally asked one of his own unspoken questions. For the few weeks since Thane joined, not _once_ had Shepard ordered for him to suit-up as a member of the shore party.

Shepard leaned forward in her seat, bracing her forearms against her knees, “because you two are my favorites.” She said grinning at them, and slightly deflecting Tali’s original question, before continuing, “Of the original Normandy’s crew, you are the only two I’ve got.”

Leaning back in her seat she offered a shrug, “I know how you move, I know what risks you’re willing to take, and I trust you two with my life. You’re also the only two that aren’t _paid_ to be here, well, besides Grunt… and no one’s really sure about Mordin.” She said lifting her hand in a shrug-like motion before continuing, “You’re here for the mission, you’re here because we make a good team.” Satisfied with her reasoning, she leaned forward in her seat once more.  

Tali shook her head slightly, “I’m here for this mission only because of _you,_ Shepard.” She emphasized by casually gesturing towards the commander with an open hand before turning her face towards Garrus, looking for support.

He nodded and provided the backup she was looking for, “If it was just Cerberus running this operation… If you weren’t here, I doubt Tali or I would have agreed to board the ship, regardless of its name.”

Shepard dropped her head for a moment, staring at the floor, before looking back up and nodding to them, “Thank you, both of you, for trusting me even though I’m the one who’s caught between a rock and a hard place with Cerberus. You didn’t have to-… thank you.”

Nothing more need be said, and the shuttle fell into silence for the rest of the flight.

 

-

 

When Garrus originally met Shepard, he knew she was essentially his only chance to bring Saren to justice. No one else was willing to take the risks he deemed necessary in order to pursue the leads he’d already gathered. Horrible things had followed Saren’s steps for years, promptly tailed by all the evidence somehow dissolving in his wake. Saren’s status caused everyone to turn a blind eye except for Shepard and Anderson… and Udina.

Anderson and Udina were handling the politics, but _Shepard_ … Shepard was pursuing leads personally, walking around, going places she shouldn’t… getting _results_. From the very beginning, she’d been exactly what he needed. With amusement, he remembered how he’d _demanded_ with absolutely _no_ tact to be a part of Shepard’s team. Understandably, she’d asked, as Garrus himself was turian, why he’d want to bring Saren down.

He could recall the conversation with reasonable clarity, _“I couldn't find the proof I needed in my investigation, but I knew what was really going on. Saren is a **traitor** to the Council and a **disgrace** to my people.”_

Following his emphatic statement, Shepard grinned at him and without any hesitation said simply, _“Welcome aboard, Garrus.”_

 

When was it exactly that his focus had shifted? Originally, he’d been wholly dedicated to the mission while doing his best to help make sure everyone made it back alive, but somewhere in the mess… He began to fully trust _Shepard_ to accomplish the mission, so he focused more and more on keeping _her_ safe.

Within their first few field missions together, it became blatantly obvious Shepard wasn’t used to having someone watch her back as well as the bullets fired from his sniper rifle would. The first several times a body she hadn’t shot yet dropped lifeless to the ground, her head would whip around mid-battle attempting to understand what happened. He took notice while re-loading that her expression was one of confusion. It didn’t take long for those confused glances back at him to turn into a wry grin like they were playing off one another’s movements, taking care of each other, dancing around the battle field, showing off, and keeping each other safe. When had he switched from nearly emotionless communication with her as his superior officer to nonchalant, then friendly, and now even… _fond_ banter?

Shepard was his superior officer, but she’d just confirmed in response to Tali’s question that they weren’t just soldiers to her. He realized then that, Shepard had chosen _them_ as her closest _friends_ and she was more than happy to treat them as such. A part of him still recoiled at the idea of being so casual with his commander, but memories of her reaction to his appearance on Omega, her teasing him in the comm room when he’d recovered, their conversations in the Main Battery, and their teasing one another on Horizon made him huff a small laugh and shake his head. The flood of good memories pertaining to friendly banter with Shepard caused the part of him that resisted the off-the-cuff conversation to promptly resign. People like Shepard and Tali were the reason his life aboard the Normandy was so rewarding.

Shepard’s words from earlier that afternoon confirmed his own thoughts, _“The most we can do, I think, is try to help those with us find peace and figure out how to create it for ourselves. In all the chaos, we’ve got to remember to appreciate what we’re currently doing, regardless of how small, and **find the right people to help us through the worst of it**.”_

 

 

“-Garrus?” Tali’s voice interrupted his pondering.

“Mm?” A slightly startled and anxious reflex of a question escaped his throat as his gaze flicked towards her. His visage appearing momentarily aloof before softening.

Tali’s head tilted slightly sideways as she looked over at the commander who was now standing, somewhat bent over, talking to the pilot. Before speaking again, her purple masked face re-oriented itself in Garrus’s direction, her silver eyes just barely reflecting any light in the dimly lit shuttle, “You seem distracted. Is everything alright?”

Garrus nodded, fixing his gaze on the wall across from them for a moment before turning his head to acknowledge her more directly, “Yeah.” He started, the sentence broken with an inhale “I’m fine. My mind was just wandering… remembering back to when I first joined Shepard on the Citadel and how much has changed since.”

He couldn’t really tell, but the silver reflection of Tali’s eyes appeared to be squinting at him, perhaps smiling.

“Alright, the field is already full of Geth. Prep for a hot drop and be ready to fire.” Shepard said turning around to look at both of her selected squad mates with a no-nonsense resolute gaze.

“On it.” Garrus replied, clearly already flipping the switch on his ‘get serious shit done’ personality, as he checked one last time both the weapons he brought with him were adequately prepped.

Tali watched as Shepard and Garrus once more looked to one another with determination as the door lifted and bullets flew past into the shuttle.

 


	7. 7. July, Garrus

 

[Interview; Subject: Garrus Vakarian; late year 2189 CE, 3 years post Reaper Destruction.]

 

He shifted in his seat slightly, elbows braced on either arm rest, hands clasped before him.

Slowly, he began speaking again, “I’m not sure when this started… maybe it was always there, I don’t really remember. For a fact though, I do remember seeing it after Cerberus brought her back again… 2185. Spirits, that wasn’t very long ago was it?”

He lifted a hand to his face and ran it over his fringe briefly, “Some days, feels like an eternity…”

Falling silent for a moment, he shook his head before continuing, “In the first few missions I ran with her again once she brought me back from Omega, I remember watching her and seeing this… distant confusion in her eyes. The first time I noticed it, I thought it was still just recovery from whatever Cerberus had done, but it wasn’t _just_ confusion. Before this point, I’d never actually seen Shepard look afraid, but this was a… _hidden fear_ , if that makes sense, like… I’m not certain she even recognized what it was.

I don’t remember where we were, but after a particularly hectic assault, I recall seeing her looking around, trying to find me, almost in a _desperation_. At that point we weren’t together yet, but she looked for me several times when the going got rough. In the moment, I’d assumed she just wanted to make sure her people were safe, but after a few months back out in the field with us, the panicked look in her eye seemed to decrease in frequency. You know what I think that fear was?” he asked leaning forward in the chair and clasping his hands tightly.

“It was as if… she was sometimes overwhelmed by this _feeling_ like we’d all just… _disappeared_. I think when Shepard suffocated, her brain remembered that feeling of being surrounded by fast-moving objects, while in intensifying pain, and there was absolutely no one to help her. Everyone she’d relied on, built trust with, put her life in the hands of time and time again, suddenly disappeared from her life. There was obviously a reason why everyone had evacuated, but I think, in those moments when she’d look for us she was re-orienting herself, combating PTSD with finding something in her surroundings she could really be sure of.”

He took a deep breath, staring at the recorder on the table between us as he appeared to be attempting to think about something else. A moment later he offered a huffed laugh and brought up another memory,

“She changed her armor style and I really wonder sometimes how long it took me to notice. The first time I realized it, she was vaulting a pile of drywall or something like it, and I noticed the only red still on her armor were the lights in the back. The rest of her armor was all dusky grey, silver, and dark blue. The way she’d designed it… She’d customized it to match my own armor’s patterning I think. Again, at this time we weren’t yet together. Initially I’d thought she might have done so for a slim tactical advantage. If two people on the battle field, at a glance, looked like one another, that split second of a merc mis-targeting could give the other of us a better shot. When I asked her about it, she confirmed that was one reason she’d changed it. It wasn’t until a week or so later I actually learned grey and blue were her favorite colors.”

He offered a quiet laugh, eyes crinkling slightly in genuine mirth. “Can you believe it? Her favorite color was _grey_.”

 

\--- ---

 

[2185, Sol System month of “July”; Normandy SR-2]

 

 

Kasumi and Dr. Chakwas leaned forward as they sat next to Tali listening to her re-tell her observations of Garrus and Shepard’s interactions with one another.

“I wish you could have seen it.” Tali commented in a somewhat giddy tone, “Shepard told me to hack some jamming towers. So, I mostly had to stay hunkered down the whole time as Shepard and Garrus fired back at the Geth, but once my omni-tool connected, I could turn around and partly watch as they fought. Watching them interact with one another was like watching two psychics plot the perfect ending to a strategy game.”

Kasumi chimed in, elbow on the table, chin resting on the back of her hand as she looked between Tali and Dr. Chakwas, “Dr. Solus was also _more_ than willing to fill me in on the details he noticed while they were battling the Collectors on Horizon, and _let me tell you... that_ was something special. I recorded everything Mordin said, so if you come to my room later, I’ll let you have a listen.” Kasumi said barely containing her grin. “Let the ship _consume_ you…” she emphasized by moving her hands in the air like a starburst.

Dr. Chakwas barked a laugh, “Well… as a _scientist_ ,” Karin started, “I’d say the evidence is certainly piling up in support of your hypothesis, Miss Goto.”

The doors to the main battery opened as Garrus made his way down the walkway, staring at his omni-tool. Upon reaching the steps, he looked up and realized all three women at the table were watching him. Dr. Chakwas, looked down at her tea, a bit shyly. Tali and Kasumi continued to stare at him. He didn’t know what Tali was thinking, but Kasumi had a look on her face he knew all too well from growing up with a sister. She’d dug up _something_ they were oh, so looking forward to teasing him about.

Kasumi re-prompted the original conversation now that Garrus was present, “Did Shepard ever answer your question about why she only ever takes Garrus ground side instead of Thane?” she queried, looking at Tali again.

Tali shook her head and looked straight at Garrus as he attempted to ignore them, grabbing something from the fridge, and cracking open the lid as he leaned back against one of the counters, listening as casually as possible.

“No, she didn’t.” Tali followed up with a suspicious tone of voice.

Garrus’s shook his head and stared at the packet MRE in his hand with a calm kind of animosity as he realized he’d have to take the bait, “Yes, she did.” he defended, looking semi-defiantly at Tali with a bit of an incredulous gaze, “Her reasoning was rather soundly explained too…”

Tali retorted by pointing at him, “Nooo, she explained why she valued having us as her go-to team, but she never answered why she picked _you_ over Thane.”

He shook his head, “It doesn’t matter, Tali. This isn’t a competition.”

Dr. Chakwas was once again invested in the conversation and she offered a quiet disbelieving laugh. “Garrus, really…”

His gaze shifted to the doctor, brow furrowing ever so slightly. He didn’t want to continue this conversation, but there was no escape, “…what?” he asked as he squeezed more of the packet’s contents into his mouth.

“You and the commander are an _item_ , aren’t you?” Dr. Chakwas asked sounding motherly-delighted.

He coughed slightly at the question before placing the MRE pack on the counter and refuting, “I- No, doctor! Hah- … that-” The incongruity of that question threw him more off balance than he’d anticipated. “-is absurd. No.” 

“But you _are_ interested?” Tali pressed, leaning towards the table, resting her elbows on the surface, fists below her jaw.

Spirits, for being a Quarian right now, she too, sounded just like his sister. He definitely never thought he’d have to go through this again once he became an adult. Apparently, he’d been sorely mistaken.

Shaking his head, he began to answer with a professional tone, “Relationships with superior officers-“

“-You always get so _serious_ when you’re nervous.” Tali jeered with the most smug smile in her voice.

“Tali- I-“ he paused momentarily trying to make his next words very clear to her, “No. The Commander and I are not… involved.” He finished, grasping the edge of the counter behind him lightly.

He really hoped none of them had caught he’d instinctively distanced himself from the other subject of conversation by saying her title instead of her name. By the look on Kasumi’s face… she caught it and probably knew all the reasons why someone would do so.

Closing his eyes for a fraction of a moment longer than normal, he sighed. The really shitty part about this line of questioning held onto him tightly. Despite how he’d attempted to make his denial resolute, having someone ask him, to his face, whether or not he was interested in Shepard…

Kasumi’s head tilted then in an adoring expression and said quietly, in a calming tone, “I’ve heard people say turians aren’t very expressive, but it’s really just because they don’t know what to look for.”

Garrus looked up at her with an aloof expression as she continued, “You don’t know what to do now that thoughts you’ve either pushed away or hadn’t recognized have been verbally presented to you by _someone else_ who’s been watching, and that’s okay.”

Her tone was so gentle, so calming. She somehow made it sound like they hadn’t just interrogated him as only a group of women could. Kasumi had re-directed the conversation from Garrus’s annoyance at the whole group, to just the two of them talking more casually about their interests in life. She’d also verbally given him permission to be frustrated at the scenario he was in. He had to admit, having conducted many interrogations himself, what she'd just done was impressively executed, but he knew what she was doing.

He shook his head and stared at the island counter in front of him, there was nothing he could say that would make this conversation go any better than how it was currently, and Tali confirmed that even silence couldn’t help with her next statement.

“It’s official.” Tali said with a dubious tone. “Our resident turian’s got a thing for _the_ _commander_.”

Spirits, was acting like this natural for every woman across species?

Before he could either turn this whole situation into a joke or reprimand the three of them for purposefully attempting to embarrass him for no reason, the elevator could be heard descending from the CIC.

The whole room suddenly formed a silent pact to completely change topic. The elevator doors opened and Garrus commented calmly, “Tali, I found something you might be interested in.”

As the commander rounded the corner, Garrus was rooting through a cabinet in the corner-kitchen. He pulled out a bottle of capsules and walked a bit closer to the table before tossing it lightly toward Tali. Kasumi caught it and handed it to Tali, leaning over to try and read its label.

“ _Reversal_?” Tali asked, turning the bottle over in her hand.

Shepard leaned her head back before glaring playfully at Garrus then looking to Tali as she held the bottle, “Damn it. I just found out about that stuff a few days ago. I asked Dr. Chakwas to order several cases of it, but they haven’t come in yet.”

Dr. Chakwas grinned and explained to Kasumi and Tali, “It’s a special kind of gastro-immunal suppressant. Regardless of dextro based or levo based, Tali and Garrus can now enjoy other species food selections.”

“How’d you find out about this, Shepard?” Garrus quizzed, crossing his arms and raising his chin slightly.

“I started wondering if there was some kind of solution soon after I met Tali on the SSV and she explained the whole dextro thing to me. Every few months I’d try to do some digging via extranet, obviously a lot of things happened in the last two years or so. I figured eventually _someone_ would have _something_ to help… I thought it might be nice.” She finished speaking with a casual shrug, her gaze fixed subtly-happily on Tali as she read the contents of the pills.

“That’s really nice of you Shepard, thank you.” Tali said quietly looking back up to acknowledge the commander.

“Don’t thank _me_.” Shepard replied nodding in Garrus’s direction.

“Yes, thank you, Garrus.” Tali said looking once more at him, “There’s no company name on this bottle though… is it… _safe_?” She questioned turning to look at Dr. Chakwas.

“It is safe, Tali. Not quite black-market. Dr. Solus had a hand in creating it several years ago, I believe.” She said proudly.

Garrus huffed a laugh and retorted “Of course he did-“ before the whole room finished his sentence in unison “- _someone else might have gotten it wrong_.”

 


	8. 8. July, Crew

 

[2185, Sol System month of “July”; Normandy SR-2]

 

“Mr. Moreau?”

“Yeah, EDI, what’s up?”

“The Normandy’s crew have been here for a month and I’ve noticed an interesting pattern in the extranet searches of Zaeed, Kasumi, Thane, Tali, Jack, Garrus, Dr. Chakwas, Yeoman Chambers, and Dr. Solus.”

“Oookay? Isn’t this something you should be telling the Commander, or no one in general?”

“I cannot. They involve Shepard.”

“Uhm… Okay, I’ll bite.”

“All of them have been researching various methods of… connection with other species present on this ship.”

“Y’mean like… sex?”

“No… Well, yes, but I believe Dr. Chakwas and Dr. Solus may be doing so as a preventative measure. I assume they think it will happen at some point and would like to be prepared to mend any correlated health issues should the need arise. The others are primarily researching more about other species’ interactions like facial expressions, vocal changes, pheromone detection, and body language.”

“Wai-wai-wait… _Pheromone detection_? Seriously?”

“Yes. Apparently humans are capable of detecting pheromones in other humans and other species, but they are not cognitively aware they are doing so, and do not notice how it may or may not influence their actions. Other species are, however, decently equipped to do so.”

“Ew… What species are really good at that kind of thing? I want to know if I ever have to talk to one in person.”

“Elcor, asari, and drell are the best at pheromone detection in that order, followed by salarians, turians, krogans, and humans also in that order. Volus, quarians, and hanar are equally bad at it.”

“Eugh… remind me to never talk to Liara or Thane in person ever again…”

 

\--- ---

 

[2185, Sol System month of “July”; Normandy SR-2]

 

 

The message had said to meet Kasumi in her room, Port Observation, at 00:00. Rapid chuckling could be heard from within Kasumi’s room as Shepard approached.

When the doors slid open, she found Kasumi, Tali, and Chambers huddled around a little machine. Kasumi, Tali, and Chambers were all still seated on the couch, a little device between Tali and Chambers on the cushion… all of them _crying laughing_.

Shepard’s face shifted to a confused but contagiously broad smile. “What is going on here?”

Tali tried to speak, but she only got out “K-Kasumi – she –“ before falling into gasping for air as she laughed.

“Shepard! You have to hear this.” Kasumi said ushering her to sit next to the device as Tali scooted out of her way. She then handed Shepard a listening device.

“You’re not spying on any crew mates are you?”

“Not _right nooow_.” Kasumi said wryly. “Just listen!”

Shepard put the listening device in her ear and Kasumi pressed play on the little machine. Initially, instrumental music played, but it soon shifted to a more electric sounding track and just as the dubstep kicked in, the drop was accompanied by Garrus saying confidently, but with an auto-tuned-deepened voice “Calibrations”. The unexpected word made a snort of laughter escape Shepard’s nose as she covered her mouth with one hand and looked at the others in the room all still giggling.

 

“In The Middle of Some Calibrations.” By Kasumi Goto…

 

When it ended Shepard, now gasping for air and wiping tears from under her eyes attempted to control her laughing enough to say, “Kasumi Goto… If you ever show this to Garrus… You had better make it at a really hectic moment mid-battle.”

Tali then followed up, pointing at Shepard emphatically, “Yeah, he’ll go from “Enemy is everywhere!!” to “What the fuck _is this_??” “

Her last few words barely a squeak she was once again consumed by laughing.

They all lost it again.

 

\--- ---

 

[2185, Sol System month of “July”; Normandy SR-2]

 

 

“Mordin? How… Can I help you?” Miranda asked with a very confused look on her face as he walked into her office and stared out the window for a moment.

“Yes. Curious… Shepard’s natural cycle restored. Empirically unwise.” He said turning around to look at her, and resuming his typical thinking position, one arm supporting the other, hand under his chin.

“I’m sorry, what?”

“Menstruation…” Mordin clarified.

“I mentioned it all in my report, Shepard was ideally brought back exactly how she was originally. This includes her body’s natural menstruation cycle…” Miranda said laying one hand on top of the other, and looking up at Mordin with an annoyed expression.

“Yes, yes. Regardless, menstruation highly energy demanding in human women. _Painful_. Illusive Man needed Shepard at optimum. Yet, natural menstruation cycle _retained_ in physiology. Potentially dangerous. Safety of mission hypothetically compromised! Shepard, almost _guaranteed_ to encounter emotional distress at inopportune time. Abrupt changes in hormone production impacting acute judgement capability.”

“Dr. Solus, Shepard has been dealing with menstruation for over fifteen years of her life now. I think she can handle it.”

“Understandable argument, but scientifically erroneous. Female Cerberus crew required to have ovaries removed or undergo regular injections to combat hormone production. All but _eliminates_ menstruation. No risk for pregnancy. _You_ do not have a _uterus_ -“

Miranda held up a hand and glared at him, “-I followed _orders_ , Mordin. Shepard is exactly the way she was before whether or not she, or any of us liked it. From what we know about Shepard, she has always either been capable of accounting for any hormonal and subsequent emotional challenges she may face, or she’s surrounded herself with people who will be another voice of reason. From what we’ve seen of her so far, she’s already following those same patterns. There are several people on this ship The Illusive Man did not give her dossiers for. Shepard somehow found them on her own, but they are well known and very trusted friends of hers.”

A moment of silence passed between them before Mordin shook his head, “Critical error.”

Miranda glared at him and he held up a hand in surrender, “On _my part_.” He clarified, blinking, wide eyed before continuing, “Shepard could not give opinion. Could not _volunteer_ for revival. Removing menstruation… more efficient, logical choice… still, not inherently life threatening to crew. Situations _similar_ but not the same.”

He paused, taking in a sharp breath, “Thank you. Gave me additional perspective on problem relating to krogan female population.”

The door closed behind him and Miranda stared at where he previously stood with an incredulous expression before shaking her head, briefly throwing her hands in the air in surrender and returning to her work.


	9. 9. August: Grunt, Mordin

 

[2185, Sol System month of “August”; Tuchanka]

 

“Shepard!”

A voice deep enough to make the ground shake called out from a throne of thrown together rocks. Wrex shoved passed the krogan who had been talking to him, and those at the entrance to the rise attempting to keep other people from interrupting.

As he stomped forward, his voice made several excited guttural sounds, “Shepard! My friend!”

Shepard’s eyes lit up in a broad smile despite how little her mouth moved to mirror the emotion. She very nearly reached out to hug the giant krogan, but he reached out a hand and she instead grasped his forearm, bringing him close and clapping her other hand on his shoulder.

“You look well, for dead, Shepard. Should have known the void couldn’t hold you.” Wrex said nodding to her.

Shepard grinned approvingly at the old man and commented on how well he’s done, making his way to a Clan Chief. He held his arms in an expression of impending victory explaining he wasn’t just doing this for Urdnot. His goal was to re-unite all krogan. Her eye brows raised in surprise. All Wrex could talk about aboard the SSV was how his people were going to die out and that uniting them was impossible. Maybe one day she’d get to ask him what changed his mind.

The krogan he’d previously been speaking to shook his head accusing Wrex of eliminating old krogan traditions he simply didn’t like, dissolving different factions. Wrex turned without hesitation and slammed his frontal plate into the snout of the speaker before stating with a calm and resolute tone of voice “Speak when spoken to, Uvenk. I’ll drag your clan to glory whether you like it or not.”

Shepard smirked at Uvenk as he held a hand to his snout before shaking his head and watching from the sidelines. Wrex and Shepard briefly discussed recent events before she asked, motioning at Grunt that he needed some kind of medical attention.

Wrex leaned forward in his seat, observing Grunt as he stepped forward. The conversation that ensued occurred almost exactly as she’d expected it to… except for when Wrex asked Grunt if he wanted to join clan Urdnot. Honestly, she was a bit surprised, but hoped Grunt would accept the offer. Granted, Shepard didn’t know much about the other clans, but since it was already clear through the conversation that Grunt, as a tank bred, wasn’t very welcome… there’s no clan she’d rather entrust him to than Urdnot with Wrex as its figurehead. With a proud, mother-like grin, Grunt turned around after a noticeably brief deliberation and accepted Wrex’s offer to be a part of Urdnot. With a nod of acceptance, Wrex told them to head to the Shaman on the second floor to begin the Rite of Passage.

Shepard grinned once again, the Rite of Passage was exactly the kind of name she’d expected unless it was really a subtle translator issue.

Upon reaching the second level, Shepard and Grunt overheard Uvenk sputtering at the Shaman about how The Rite of Passage may not even challenge a tank-bred while declaring with flamboyance that Grunt was _unnatural_. Uvenk was seriously getting on her nerves. No one talked about her very confused, but otherwise excellent crew member, and strangely loveable tank-boy, like he was _worthless_. As Grunt stepped forward saying, without any granted authority, that he could speak for himself, Shepard nearly nodded emphatically in proud confirmation.

The Shaman turned, apparently unprepared to see something that appeared to be so magnificently krogan. His preconceptions altered, most likely negatively, thanks to Uvenk. With a scrutinizing gaze, the Shaman declared Grunt to be very lifelike, following up his verbal declaration by saying Grunt smelled natural too. As Shepard stood so close to Grunt, she also silently, and as discreetly as possible, attempted to smell the krogan next to her with her clearly inferior nasal passages. Originally she’d thought the musky but somewhat sweetly-bitter smell in the portside storage had been from the contents of the _tank_ , but apparently the scent was actually Grunt himself. Shepard then recalled smelling something vaguely similar when Wrex was aboard, although she hadn’t given it much thought.

As the Shaman turned once more to look at Uvenk, claiming his protests against Grunt participating in the Rite were disintegrating, Shepard, increasingly miffed at Uvenk’s intervention spat verbal venom in protesting krogan's face, “I don’t care what this idiot says. Grunt has a right to be here!” she emphasized her statement by taking a hostile step forward and pointing a warning finger in his direction. She'd have preferred to use her middle finger, but the significance of the gesture would likely have been lost among the present crowd.

From all her time interacting with Wrex, Shepard had a pretty decent idea of what the krogan respected. While she would naturally _prefer_ to work this situation out with words alone, she was on the _krogan_ home world… A fire in her demeanor and venom in her words would earn her more respect than diplomacy and restraint. 

As she predicted, the Shaman approved of her defiance, shaking his head in disappointment once again at Uvenk, but of course the defiant jackass had a ritualistic counter to the whole situation, claiming Grunt was without a krantt and unfit to fight in the Right of Passage. While Shepard temporarily held the Shaman’s approval, their tradition pulled on his decision making, stating despite how much Uvenk was testing his patience… he had a point.

Grunt dipped his head, appearing uncertain of what to say and without missing a beat Shepard filled the silence for him with her chin raised, “Grunt will _strengthen_ Clan Urdnot. _Name our target and it will die…_ ” Automatically declaring that she was a member of Grunt's krantt.

Once more the Shaman’s approval of Shepard and Grunt seemed to grow as a result. “Spoken well!” he started, casting his arms out in a victory stance, “Most aliens… and _some krogan_ ” he continued, turning with calm disgust toward Uvenk “do not understand our ways… I _believe_ this human does.” He emphasized by nodding his massive head up and down in approval.

A spark of pride ignited in Shepard’s chest at his words. She’d done her best to learn from what Wrex had taught her on the SSV, and that understanding was finally showing its teeth in an opportune way for her new crewmate’s benefit. It felt rather monumental that not only had Wrex embraced her proudly and publicly as a good friend and powerful ally, she was slowly earning the _Shaman’s_ respect as well.

Uvenk retaliated, claiming aliens couldn’t possibly know _true strength_ and that everything about Grunt was a lie. With a split second of deliberation, Shepard accepted the black and purple bruise that would form on her forehead as she stepped forward, tensed, and slammed her head into the face plate of the haughty dumbass before her.

The Shaman burst out laughing claiming now with exuberance, “I like this human! _She_ understands!”

With the Shaman’s now very clear support, Uvenk shook his head at Shepard and claimed to withdraw his denial. Walking past her, he purposefully collided with her shoulder and said their disagreement would be settled elsewhere.

The first few trials were fairly straight forward and simple. _Kill the all the small things…_

Then along came the _Thresher Maw_.

Equipped with her missile launcher, and taking full advantage of the single ammo refill she had access to on the field, she timed her shots to ensure as many hit the maw as possible before it receded into the dirt. With the combined firepower of her sniper rifle and the missile launcher, the Thresher Maw eventually squealed and slammed its praying-mantis-like legs into the ground before succumbing one last time to gravity and falling back slightly into its tunnel. 

Grunt seemed overjoyed at their victory against the Thresher Maw, but he exchanged a devious kind of happy expression with Shepard when Uvenk and his recruits showed up once more, challenging Shepard and Grunt to the death. When none of Uvenk’s squad was left standing, Shepard and Grunt agreed to return to Wrex.

Upon arrival, Wrex leaned forward in his seat congratulating them on killing the thresher maw. Apparently the final task hadn’t been completed since Wrex himself had taken the Rite of Passage. With a slightly resigned, but still proud expression, Wrex stared at Shepard and nodded approvingly before accepting “the tank-bred” proudly as _Urdnot_ Grunt.

 

\--- ---

 

[2185, Sol System month of “August”; Tuchanka]

 

“Repurposed krogan hospital. Sturdy. Built to withstand punishment.” Mordin commented dropping his weapon slightly and looking around the war-torn stone walls.

“That’s unfortunate…” Garrus started with a dubious tone as he lowered his weapon and came to a halt at the top of the stairs gazing around the bare crumbling stone structure, “hospitals aren’t fun to fight through.” He concluded looking from the surroundings to Mordin’s tense expression.

Shepard grinned and asked with an amused tone, “What _is_ fun to fight through?”

Garrus offered a conversational shrug and gestured with an empty hand as they began to descend the stairs, “Gardens… Electronic shops… Mm-and antique stores, but only if they’re classy.”

As he’d hoped, Shepard apparently found his retort highly amusing. She turned her head around to gift him a bright eyed expression and a broad smirk in appreciation of his humor.

Upon reaching the next level, Shepard swept the area, making sure no potentially-charging-krogans were tucked around the corner. By habit, Shepard had completely ignored the presence of a motionless corpse at the bottom of the stairs, but Mordin stepped toward it before she continued her descent and declared he needed to examine it. Turning around and approaching once more, interest now piqued, Shepard knelt on the ground beside the doctor as he began to speak about his analyses.

“Sores, tumors, ligatures showing restraint at wrists and ankles. Track marks here common of repeated injection sites. Test subject… _victim_ of experimentation.” His tone of voice as matter-of-fact as usual, gaze fixed on the hologram of the deceased’s body.

With a despondent expression, Shepard queried, “I don’t suppose there’s any way to tell who this poor bastard was?” her question accompanied with an open hand as she gestured toward the body.

Mordin shook his head, while turning the corpse over and lifting clothing articles away from the body to look for any unregistered markings, “No tattoos or present ID.” He confirmed, leaning back and kneeling once more, “Maybe slave or prisoner. Possibly merc, or pirate. Irrelevant now. Clearly part of _krogan_ tests for curing genophage. Humans _useful_ as test subjects. Genetically diverse, facilitates more linear exploration of treatment modality.”

 

Garrus observed in silence as Shepard appeared to be momentarily enraptured while listening to Mordin’s explanations. Shepard had clearly always loved science, and she somehow had a knack for communicating with people like Mordin that the rest of the crew aboard the Normandy didn’t naturally possess, himself included. Admittedly, Garrus was also curious about what Mordin had to say, but the look on Shepard’s face was more one of a bright eyed child and less so of a generally intrigued bystander.

 

Shifting from a kneeling position to sitting on her heels and balancing on the balls of her feet, Shepard prompted, “What do you mean by _humans_ are genetically more diverse?”

“More variable.” Mordin started, turning to look at Shepard slightly over his shoulder. “Peaks and valleys, mutations, _adapt_ ations. _Far_ beyond other life. Makes humans useful test subjects. Have… _larger_ reactions to smaller stimuli.”

Mordin stood, staring at the hologram before him, simultaneously analyzing the scan and answering Shepard’s questions with remarkable skill.

Shepard stood, following up his answer with yet another question, “I know humans can look really different from one another, but the asari, krogan, turian, salarian even, all can vary pretty dramatically in skin color too.”

Shaking his head, Mordin turned his full attention to Shepard for a moment as he said definitively, “No.” With a hand gesture to signify denial, he continued, “ _Ignore_ superficial appearance. Down to _genetic code_.” He lifted his free hand in an open conversational gesture, “biotic abilities, intelligence levels, can look at random asari, krogan… make reasonable guess. Humans? Too variable to judge. Outliers in all species of course,” he said nodding his head back and forth as he continued, “Geniuses, idiots… but human _probability curve_ offers greater overall variety.”

Nodding, Shepard appeared to be processing what he’d said, “Even so…” she began, “Wouldn’t something _native_ to Tuchanka be better? Varren, maybe?”

“Yes.” He confirmed, looking at her squarely with a hint of a smile, “Human experiments strictly high-level… _concept_ testing. Native Tuchanka fauna likely used later in development stages… Wise to _delay_ use of varren until necessary. _Powerful bite_.”

Returning her gaze to the man on the floor, Shepard pondered, “What can you tell about their experiments so far from just this one body?”

Mordin obliged, bending once more to look at the body more closely, and compare external analysis with the holographic scan of the entire organism, “Position of tumors suggests deliberate mutations of adrenal, and pineal glands. Modifies hormone levels… Counterattack on glands hit by genophage.” He paused a moment, taking a deep breath before saying with reserve, “Clever.”

“Clever?” Shepard asked, furrowing her brow, “How close do you think they are to curing the genophage?”

“Can’t say. Need more data. Conceptually sound though.” He said rising once more to his full height. As he continued, he held out his left palm and hit it lightly with one finger in thought, “Genophage _altered_ hormone levels. Could potentially repair damage with hormonal counterattack.”

“Is there any reason you can think of why Maelon might be held captive as a test subject? Is there something in Salarian DNA that would help the Krogan?”

“No.” Mordin said turning to her with an emphasized startled look on his face, “Salarian _females_ make more sense than male. Both krogan and salarian females are oviparous. Research on human male suggests focus perhaps solely on hormone modification.” He paused momentarily, crossing his left arm over his torso, resting his right elbow on the forearm and placing his hand below his chin in contemplation, “Even still, Salarian male would be nearly useless. No significant correlation with _krogan_ hormone production. Most likely, Maelon captured for insight on _original_ genophage…”

Understanding the urgency of the situation, Shepard readied her weapon for advancement and started toward the next set of stairs, “Let’s go find him then.”


	10. 10. August, Mordin

-

 

The barrage of krogan, vorcha, and varren ambushes were expected, and reasonably swiftly disposed of, but when a group of krogan appeared, in a strategically more advantageous position, and _didn’t_ immediately open fire? … _Not_ as expected.

Garrus raised his rifle upon entering the room, watching the main speaker through the reticle, but purposefully held his finger off the trigger. He was still following his own mandate, no innocents would be harmed unless he was prompted by an obvious and _fully visible_ intent by the subject to retaliate with violence. Shepard was attempting to negotiate peacefully with the krogan above them, but Garrus kept his vision trained, half focusing on the surrounding krogan, and half ensuring his cross hairs remained on the speaker’s head. When it became clear they would have to listen to speaker’s whole crusade before they could leave the room, he hesitantly lowered his rifle.

“If you walk away now, you can tell your children that you saw Clan Weyrloc before our Blood Pack conquered the stars. You think the Urdnot impressive?” He asked, stepping closer to the railing, “They are pitful.” He emphasized with a dismissive wave of a hand, “Weyrloc Guild will destroy them! The _salarian_ will cure the genophage and Clan Weyrloc will spread across the galaxy in a _sea of blood_!”

Mordin was listening intently, standing as he typically did with arms crossed, one hand under his chin, as he leaned closer to Shepard and whispered, “Appears they discovered Maelon’s work… Unfortunate.”

‘ _Or Maelon volunteered…_ ’ Garrus hypothesized silently. The strings to pull on, at the moment, lead to three primary scenarios and their constituents.

 **C1:** Mordin hypothesized, now confirmed by the krogan speaker, that Maelon was working on a cure for the genophage.  
**C2:** Mordin stated Maelon worked on the _original_ genophage indicating likely past or current STG employment.

 **S1:** Maelon had been luring, or paying, test subjects here for experimentation.    
               **S2:** Maelon had been captured by krogan extremists and forced to pursue a cure.  
                **S3:**  Clan Weyrloc was working _for_ Maelon, bringing him willing, or unwilling, participants for live-organism study. 

 **C3:** The krogan speaker mentioned a leader, Weyrloc Guld.  
               - Militaristically minded, most likely course of action in response to retaliation: fight, possibly to the death.

 **C4:** The krogan speaker himself, knew the general objective, but appeared to be unaware of what process Maelon was using to develop a cure.  
               - If the speaker were the selected second in command by Weyrloc Guld, he should know more than he does currently about Maelon’s involvement.  
               - Speaker was flamboyantly boasting about the work Maelon was doing, either he was confident no one would survive attempting to take him away, or Maelon was doing it willingly and Weyrloc was the only faction willing to protect him and/or his methods.

 

“Half the galaxy sees the krogan as victims.” Shepard insisted, “If you start another war you’ll _lose_ their support!”

The speaker droned on about how their support wouldn’t matter because Weyrloc Guld apparently was more than happy to attempt wiping out any and every race in opposition. Small uprisings like this could potentially cause trouble if left unchecked for long enough, but Urdnot was already aware of the impending issues. Urdnot scouts had been sent into this area and hadn’t returned. If Wrex continued to be successful in recruiting more clans to align with Urdnot, the likelihood of clan Weyrloc defeating the current diplomatic figurehead and his earned support, was relatively slim.

Garrus’s gaze fell, amidst the impassioned noise above, onto a conveniently placed tank of highly flammable liquid just below the speaker and the other krogan with him. He had no doubt Shepard and Mordin would have also noticed its presence. Glancing over, he saw Shepard turn slightly to Mordin as the speaker talked of keeping salarians as a slave race and consuming their eggs as a delicacy. Patiently, Mordin raised a finger and looked pointedly at Shepard, telling her silently to wait for the krogan to finish speaking. Uncomfortably, Garrus tightened his grip on his rifle slightly and shifted his footing to prepare for the inevitable fight.

Gunfire echoed in the stone room, hitting Garrus across the shoulder just as he ducked behind cover. Two head shots later from both his rifle and Shepard’s, the speaker’s lifeless body fell to the floor of the catwalk. Advancing, they were met with more vorcha, varren, and charging krogan until one of the last insurgents stomped into the room and shouted, “I am Weyrloc Guld, and we _will_ be victorious!” before roaring at the sky as they usually did, and running face first into the first of the next three missiles Shepard fired in his direction.

 

When the room was once again quiet, he filled the void with his own voice, “Shepard. When am I going to get one of these things?” He asked walking up behind her and rapping his knuckles on the body of the missile launcher.

“You saying you _need_ one, Vakarian?” she jeered turning to grin at him with a challenging gaze as he fell in step beside her.

“Wait, are _you_ saying you need one?” he scoffed as his head shot backwards in question and surprise.

“Every once in a while, I take it out and fire it just to hear the fun little noise it makes. Conveniently, it usually ends up hitting something I wanted dead anyway.” She quipped, gazing up at him with bright eyes.

He huffed a laugh at her and returned his attention to their surroundings as they walked through a new doorway. His gaze and pistol sweeping the area nearby to ensure it was clear.

As Shepard climbed over rubble and crumbled walls, a frame of blue light caught her attention.

When Garrus was certain no other attacking vermin were in the area, he holstered his pistol and joined the other two at the active console, no doubt about to hear Mordin monologue a bit.

 

-

 

“Genetic sequences. Hormone mutagens still steady. Protein chains… Live tissue… _Cloned_ tissue.” Mordin read off a quick list of the data sets he pulled up, inhaling briefly, he nodded “Very impressive.”

Although Shepard hadn’t asked, he turned to look at her more directly and explained what he was seeing in his typical, rapid, choppy, mode of communication, “Standard treatment vectors. Avoided scorched-earth immunosuppressants to _alter_ hormone levels.” With a proud tone he remarked, “Good!” Shaking his head then and taking a small sharp inhale he concluded, “Hate to see that.”

Evidently, _that_ was a part he didn’t feel the need to try and explain.

“Hate to see what?” Shepard asked, apparently also confused.

“What would happen if it hadn’t been accounted for.” Mordin said looking at her, clearly expressing confusion for how she hadn’t understood what he meant, and also not seeing that _more_ information would have been helpful… such as _why_ it would have been such a bad thing.

Shaking her head, Shepard evidently elected to drop it. “Most people wouldn’t be so casual about reading the actual data collected in development of a _sterility plague_ …”  

Surprisingly, Mordin’s tone was gentle instead of defensive, “Not developing. _Modifying_. Much more difficult! Working within confines of _existing_ genophage. A _hundred times_ the complexity! Errors… **unacceptable**. Could cause _total sterility_. Malignant tumors… could even reduce effectiveness.” He raised his chin slightly and shook his head, “Worse than doing nothing. With original genophage, had to keep krogan populations _stable_. One in one thousand. Perfect target. Optimal growth… Like gardening.”

Garrus and Shepard both glowered at him a bit in response to the pleasant tone that accompanied his last words. At this point, Garrus would have been just fine with dropping the conversation, but Shepard caught something he’d unintentionally ignored amongst Mordin’s fast speech.

“You’re saying you were working _just as hard_ to keep their populations from failing as you were for finding a way to reduce them to a manageable level?” she asked, observing him closely.

“Yes! Could have _eradicated_ krogan. Not difficult. Increased mutation to degrade genetic structure further. _Chose_ not to. Rachni extinction _tragic!_ Didn’t want to repeat. _All life **precious**_. Universe demands _diversity_.”

There was a bit of skepticism biting at the back of Garrus’s neck that made him doubt Mordin’s sincerity, but instinct as a whole motivated him to believe the doctor’s words.

Mordin and Shepard started walking slowly across the room like two old friends. Shepard held her pistol in an easily accessible, but relaxed posture as Mordin accompanied her, hands behind his back. They were walking slowly, and of the three of them present, Shepard was the shortest so Mordin kept pace with her. Walking ahead, Garrus scouted out the next corridor, standing at its edge to ensure they wouldn’t be interrupted by any charging varren from amongst the cracks in the structure.

“What was it like working on the genophage project?” Shepard asked, tilting her head slightly.

Mordin inhaled sharply, leaning his head back in initial response to her question before looking back at her with a gentle smile and with a conversational wave of his hand explaining, “ _Best_ years of my life. Wake up with ideas. Talk over breakfast. Experiments all morning. Statistical analysis in afternoon. Run new simulations during dinner. Designate data sequences to operate overnight… Laughter. Ego. Argument. _Passion_. Galaxy’s _biggest problem_. Massive resources thrown at us. Got _anything_ we wanted.”

Once they reached where Garrus stood at the other end of the room, they stopped walking. Shepard instead pivoting her feet, holstering her weapon, and leaning against the wall, crossing her arms as she asked Mordin another question about his time working on the genophage. She was clearly in no hurry to find Maelon. Perhaps she’d reached the same conclusion Garrus had… Maelon wasn’t actually in any life-or-death trouble.

“Do you keep in touch with your old team members?”

He shook his head, “No. Everything changed with actual deployment of genophage. Made test drop on isolated krogan clan. Hit rest of Tuchanka when results were positive. _End_ of project. Separate ways. Watching it end… Watching birth rates drop. Personal. Private… Not appropriate for team.”

Garrus watched Shepard’s face from where he stood off to the side. Her eyes were squinted slightly, but her brow wasn’t furrowed in suspicion. She seemed to genuinely sympathize with some of what Mordin was saying. From the stories Garrus had grown up hearing about the reason for the genophage deployment, he agreed with the doctor. It was necessary, and the fact that it _worked_ was even more impressive; however, it didn’t prevent the morality of the subject from causing some inner turmoil in just about everyone who encountered the subject.  

Motioning towards Mordin slightly, she queried, “It sounds like you were pretty important as the lead scientist. How’d you go from all that to running a little clinic on Omega?”

Dipping his head slightly, Mordin looked at her with a gentle expression, “Wanted to heal people… Good use of last decade. Something easy.” He looked away from her and glanced at Garrus momentarily before fixing his gaze absently on the wall next to him, “No ethical concerns. Understand rationale for original genophage. Right choice. Still… hard to sleep some nights.”

She shook her head, somewhat confused as she motioned with one hand at the building surrounding them, “After all that’s happened to Tuchanka, do you still agree with deploying the genophage?”

He nodded, attempting to explain, “State of Tuchanka _not_ due to genophage. Nuclear winter caused by krogan _before_ salarians made first contact. Krogan choices: Refuse truce during Krogan Rebellions. Expanding after Rachni Wars. Splintering after genophage… Genophage _medical_ , not nuclear. No craters caused by _virus_. Damage caused by _krogan._ Not salarian… Not _me_.”

“So, the Krogan Rebellions were really what set the problem, proverbially, on fire?”

Garrus and Mordin both nodded, but she didn’t seem to notice Garrus’s involvement from where he stood in her periphery.

“If the krogan then banded together to form a united government, you’d welcome that?” She pressed.

“Yes.” Mordin said, blinking at her, apparently surprised she’d have wanted to question his opinion on krogan ruling themselves rather than being molded by other races.

“United krogans _saved_ galaxy. Destroyed Rachni.” He continued, “Genophage not _punishment_. Simply alters fertility to correct for removal from hostile environment.”

It was clear Shepard wasn’t very familiar with the history of the krogan race. Garrus decided to chime in to clear up his last statement. “The krogan originally lived in a much more antagonistic environment. In order for them to survive at all, their reproductive numbers had to be through the roof if enough of them were going to survive to adulthood.”

Mordin nodded, catching on to why Garrus was explaining, so Mordin continued the conversation, “Rachni wars chaotic. Salarians brought krogans _out_ of native hostile environment. Turned them against Rachni ranks. Protect _galaxy_ from near-extinction.”

Shepard seemed to understand a bit more clearly, and attempted to finish his explanation herself, “So, with the krogan in a more forgiving environment where the planet's environment didn't filter their numbers, they were growing out of control?”

Mordin nodded in confirmation, and she continued once more with her own nod of understanding, “Technically, you altered their numbers to _mirror_ reproductive success of the other species… Hm, I remember Wrex telling me about this on the SSV." She emphasised by pointing and shaking her hand as if indicating an idea hanging mid-air, "He said with how militaristic his culture was, his people weren’t focusing on living a normal life and breeding as the other races were. They were all listing out as mercs, fighting... following the only traditions they really had. Since almost nothing was left to back up their numbers, they were slowly dying out… hence the more recent surge of attempts to develop a cure, or at least combat it... like engineering Grunt.” She postulated.

Motioning toward her with an open hand Mordin congratulated her on her conclusion, “Yes.”

She nodded, now clearly rather impressed with the whole situation, “Calculating the risk behind the survival of some at the cost of others is one of the hardest decisions… Especially when the universe seems to be pressing you for time.” After a brief pause she took a deep breath and nodded. “Well… we won’t find Maelon standing here, but thanks for being willing to discuss all of this with me, Mordin.”

For once, he elected not to respond verbally. He simply nodded to her with a small smile as they advanced down the hallway.


	11. 11. August, Mordin

 

A large body covered in a bound tarp lay on a table in an otherwise empty room.

After approaching the body, Mordin observed the scan’s readout, “Dead krogan. Female. Tumors indicate experimentation. No restraint marks… _Volunteer_.” He shook his head looking at the bound corpse, “Sterile Weyrloc female willing to risk procedures. Hoped for cure. Pointless… Pointless waste of life.” Mordin’s face conveyed clear distress as he leaned on the table and shook his head.

Curious, Shepard pushed the topic into the open, “I know you already told me you did what you thought needed to be done, but I didn’t expect to see you so disturbed at the sight of a dead krogan…”

Mordin pushed away from the table apparently incredibly insulted by Shepard’s comment. Aghast he looked at her, “What? Why? Because of genophage work?” He waived a hand in the air with dismissive irritation, “Irrelevant! No… _causative_.” He emphasized by pointing directly at her with a hostile stance, “Never experimented on _live_ krogan. Never _killed_ with medicine.” Stepping back he again motioned midair dismissively looking away from Shepard, “Her death, _not my work_. Only reaction to it. Goal was to stabilize populations… Never wanted _this_.” He shook his head solemnly, staring down at the table once more, bracing his hands on the edge, “Can see it logically,” he started, his voice cracking slightly, “but still… **unnecessary**. _Foolish_. _Waste_ of life. Hate to see it.”

“Did you have much direct contact with this kind of thing after dispersing the genophage?” Shepard asked calmly, clearly unfazed by Mordin’s hostility a few moments before.

Mordin nodded, “ _Yearly_ recon missions. Water, tissue samples. Ensure no mistakes.” Pausing for a moment, his gaze wandered the table before him as if attempting to push aside the memories and find the words to explain, “Superiors offered to carry it on… Refused. Needed to see it in person. Needed to look. Needed to see. Accept it as necessary.” He took a deep breath, leaning back slightly and casting, his gaze near the ceiling before looking back down and continuing, “Continue to see small picture _personally_ , not simulations. Remind myself why I run a clinic on Omega.”

Surprisingly, Mordin then wished upon the deceased krogan that she find her gods in her final mortal repose. Shepard, also a bit taken back, asked him about his spirituality. With Garrus’s family history, there wasn’t much by the way of gods or the afterlife that was ever really discussed, and he knew the humans had many different kinds, but most of them centered on a similar idea. Live your life bringing peace and/or doing well by others, and giving credit for existence to whichever god(s) they chose to believe in. The concept of religion was within every species they had yet encountered, except, as far as they knew, the Geth, Collectors, and Reapers.

“Explored religions after work completed. Different races. No answers. Many questions.”

Mordin’s matter of fact answer briefly interrupted his thoughts. Garrus had reached the same conclusion many times before, but it seemed that to most, if not all, members aboard the ship, some kind of higher power existed, perhaps even beyond the Reapers; although, now that he thought about it, the Reapers seemed to believe themselves to be some kind of god. The collective, cyclical, mass-gods of destruction.

When their conversation regarding faith drew to a close, Shepard prompted once again they needed to find Maelon. Garrus proceeded to follow her, but Mordin didn’t move. He just stood, staring at the covered body for a moment. Garrus also halted, watching Mordin’s back, attempting to figure out what he was thinking. A few more moments of silence were followed by the doctor’s sudden agreement with a simple, “Yes.”

 

 

When the door opened to show Maelon still working at the largest holographic screen Shepard had ever seen outside of a stadium, she sighed and shook her head, “Called it.” She said almost a whisper as Mordin walked forward, clearly confused. Garrus nodded in agreement with Shepard’s conclusion and stood behind them, crossing his arms. This was going to be interesting.

“For such a smart man, Professor, you always had trouble processing evidence that disagreed with your preconceptions. How long will it take you to see that I’m here because I wish to be?” Maelon said turning around and waiving a hand flippantly at Mordin.

“Impossible!” Mordin spat, “Whole team agreed! Project _necessary!_ ”

“And how was I supposed to disagree with the great _Doctor Solus?”_ Maelon asked, emphatically casting his arms out on either side of him as if challenging an opponent in an arena, “I was your _student!_ I looked up to you!”

“Experiments performed here…” Mordin began, his voice deep and openly hostile, “Live subjects! Prisoners! Torture and executions… _Your_ doing?” He emphasized, slicing the air with his hand at every statement in withering disapproval.

“We’ve already got the blood of _millions_ on our hands, Doctor! If it takes a few more to put all of that right, I can deal with that.” Maelon said taking a challenging half step forward and pointing to his chest in emphasis.

Garrus offered a derisive snort as Shepard reprimanded him verbally, “How can you think the experiments you did here are _justified_ by your intent to help. You don’t have a team. No one is here to double check your work. You could make everything worse in ways you may not even recognize! How irresponsible do you-“

Maelon cut her off, now directing his arguments at her, “We committed _cultural genocide!_ Nothing I do here will _ever_ be justified, but it’s better to try than do nothing at all! The test subjects would ensure I could accomplish this with reliable, living _proof_ one day.”

“Seeing project to completion. Still _years_ away!” Mordin interjected. “Using, testing, poisoning, infecting, _killing_ so many. Unacceptable!” Mordin stepped forward, closing distance, and standing menacingly face to face with Maelon, while pointing behind him emphatically to indicate all the bodies they’d encountered on the way.

“These experiments are monstrous because I was _taught_ to be a monster.” Maelon remarked, deflecting all blame back at Mordin while narrowing his eyes and refusing to back away from Mordin’s own fiery gaze.

Mordin stepped back, shaking his head and gesturing with an open hand at the environment they stood in, “Never taught you _this_ , Maelon.”

“Oh, so _your_ hands are clean! What does it matter the ground is stained with the blood of millions?! You taught me that the _ends, justified the means_. I will undo what we did, Professor. Don’t you see? We tried to play god, and we failed! We only made things worse… and I’m going to fix it…”

“Delusional.” Mordin said, resuming his normal thinking stance and shaking his head.

Shepard attempted to defend Mordin by re-explaining something he’d said earlier, “The Rachni wars were going to wipe out the entire galaxy. The salarians made a good call with bringing the krogan out to help fight.”

Maelon moved to interject, but Shepard stepped forward slightly in a stance of authority and he remained silent, “The krogan are particularly skilled in combat. All of their traditions are grounded in the practice of war, and the planets the krogan originated on were so harsh they _had_ to reproduce like crazy to ensure enough of their offspring survived to adult hood. Egg laying species _across every globe_ have to use similar tactics, including Salarians!”

Raising her chin, she pointed at him in challenge before continuing, “When the krogan settled less hostile worlds, if they weren’t somehow regulated, they would quickly outnumber the other races, _destroying_ them _freely_. Genophage **_or_** genocide. The genophage _itself_ hasn’t destroyed an entire civilization. It did exactly what it was supposed to do.”

She paused, waving a hand in Maelon’s direction as she continued to monologue, “The genophage took the place of the _natural selection pressures_ the hostile planets the krogan originally lived on would have inherently addressed. The genophage saved _millions_ of lives _across species_ but the krogan _are_ still a culture built on a foundation of fighting for survival and dominance.”

With a resigning sigh, she confirmed, “It was unfair to have the genophage forced on them, only to have the rest of the galaxy turn their backs on them as merely tools and outcasts; however, everyone who’s ever been in a form of leadership, in which they have to made decisions that could alter the course of history, or destroy an entire people group… have had to heavily weigh the cost. You know very well that _at the time_ , the **cost** **in lives** of letting the krogan grow unregulated was statistically, and in general, logically, too high.”

Lifting her head in contemplation she indicated toward Maelon with an open hand, “With the clans now attempting to unite under _peaceful_ leadership like Urdnot Wrex, maybe one day they’ll be ready. Hell, that time of reconciliation might be closer than we think, but _this_?... is not the way to go about it. There’s a reason Wrex was unwilling to give you the _resources_ you needed for your experiments… despite the fact that Wrex would also gain from having the genophage cured. He, a _krogan_ who is _also_ affected by the genophage, was able to see the fallacy in your “ _logic”_ and _chose_ to deny you aid. How the hell that didn’t set off warning bells in your head, I’ll never know.” She finished forcefully waving a dismissive hand in Maelon’s face.

The room fell silent for a second or two until Garrus offered an awkward, quiet, impressed whistle and Mordin stared at her with a fascinated expression.

Apparently Maelon was too angry to really process her reasoning, for he continued with a quieter tone of voice, shaking his head, “The krogan _fight_ with each other over fertile females. They become mercenaries or pirates because they see no alternative. They could have been thriving in a cultural renaissance now had we not decided that is what they deserved.”

Shepard glared at the salarian before her and earnestly suppressed the urge to shoot out his knees. Turning to Mordin slightly she said with a clearly perturbed tone, “Maelon _clearly_ doesn’t need _rescuing,_ Mordin… What do you want to do with him?”

Mordin shook his head, “Have to end this.”

Maelon, now clearly panicked, realized he’d argued himself into a corner he most likely wouldn’t survive, “You can’t face the truth can you!? You can’t admit that your _brilliant_ mind led you to commit an atrocity!”

In the blink of an eye, Mordin reached out, grasping Maelon’s wrist to hold his arm steady with one hand and the barrel of the gun with the other. Quickly pivoting the barrel around, causing Maelon’s wrist to bend at an unnatural angle, Mordin freed the gun from Maelon’s grasp. The forceful movement must have nearly snapped either his wrist or a finger as he cried out in pain before Mordin reared back and punched him squarely in the face. The impact sent Maelon stumbling back into a glass tank behind him, now completely defenseless.

“Unacceptable experiments. Unacceptable goals. Won’t change. No choice. _Have_ to kill you.”

His voice was so calm, Shepard wasn’t quite sure he really intended to do so, but before she could reach out to stop him, Mordin fired, shattering the glass behind Maelon’s head as his blood splattered across the front exterior, and ran slowly down the interior of the tank in a single dark line.

Letting Maelon’s body fall to the ground, Mordin stepped back, staring resolutely at the screen before him. “Apologies, Commander. Misunderstood mission parameters. No kidnapping. My mistake. Thank you.”

“It’s not your fault.” She said gently, arms crossed, staring with an annoyed expression at the lifeless salarian on the floor. “Are you okay?” She queried.

“Disappointed…” he started inhaling slowly and deeply before exhaling, “Thought Maelon better than that. Never suspected he’d go so far. Knew he was young, impressionable.” He paused a moment before continuing in a near whisper, “Should have talked to him after. Gotten him through the guilt.”

With empathy, Shepard offered, “It’s easy to miss someone else’s needs when you’re in the middle of your own soul-searching.”

Mordin still stared at the screen before him, “Went to Omega. Tried to _get away_. Should have stayed... Right. Wrong. Irrelevant. Maleon dead. Problem solved. Maelon’s research… Only loose end. Could destroy it. Closure. Security. _Still_ … valuable though.”

“If you think it’s potentially useful, why not hang on to it?” She asked with a shrug.

“Worked for years to create modified genophage. Should destroy this… Maelon’s work _could_ cure genophage. Don’t know… Effects on krogan. _Effects on galaxy_. Too many variables. Too many variables…”

“Keep the data.” Shepard said resolutely as Mordin was clearly looking for her input, “Better to have it and not need it.”

“Point taken, Shepard.” He said, seeming somewhat proud of her judgement. “Capturing data... Wiping local copy. - Still years away from cure, but closer than starting from scratch. Done. Ready to go. Ready to be _off_ Tuchanka. Anywhere else… Maybe somewhere sunny.”

 

\--- ---

 

[2185, Sol System month of “August”; Normandy SR-2]

 

Shepard laid on her bed with an arm over her face and groaned before offering an emotionless laugh. The Illusive Man had just discussed the matter of an inactive Collector ship he wanted her team to look into. Her mind was still keeping track of all the other things that needed to be done. Several random things had popped up from Admiral Hackett. Miranda needed help with her sister within the week. At some point this month she also needed to accompany Jacob to wherever the hell his dad’s old ship crashed down. Then there was Jack’s desire to blow up her old… _home_ (?) There was also the extraneous detail of potentially helping Liara track down the Shadow Broker... _if_ Shepard ever got the chance to breathe a bit.

All of those off-the-ship tasks, along with two conversations she now had to keep track of for things she wanted to discuss with Garrus, one for Kasumi, a few for Tali… god had she even been down just to talk to Tali since she came on board?

 _Yeah..._  yeah she did, but it was brief, general chatter about how things have been going, Tali's general hatred of Cerberus, etc. She’d forgotten most of what was said, if she was being totally honest.

“Am I a bad friend?” Shepard asked raising her arm in the air and asking absolutely no one.

“Of course not, Shepard.” EDI answered.

Shepard huffed a laugh and let her arm drop back on her face before mumbling quietly to herself, “Thanks, Cortana.”  

Approximately four hours remained between the Normandy and the Collector ship. With a sigh, Shepard resumed mentally organizing all the things she had to do and the conversations she wanted to make sure she prompted.

 

 

A quiet notification sound from her tablet cut through the noise of gunfire. Confused, she looked around attempting to understand why the hell her tablet was nearby. Reaching back as if the tablet were another weapon on her back, she was startled when instead of coming in contact with her rifle, her tricep smacked into something smooth and cold. Inhaling and wincing slightly, Shepard awoke from her dream, lifting her head somewhat to look at the tablet beneath her arm.

 

Slightly panicked, she picked it up squinting heavily at the bright light as she attempted to read the time. Two hours still to go.

With a sigh, she sat up, staring at the fish tanks for a moment as her vision adjusted to the presence of light. When looking at the tablet no longer made her groan in pain, she tapped the mail icon to read the newest message.

 

From: Kasumi Goto

Shepard,

I picked something up yesterday at the Citadel you’re going to want to see. I spent most of the day trying to figure out where to put it, but I think I finally found the perfect spot. Meet me down on Engineering?

〜(꒪꒳꒪)〜

 

“Never thought I’d get an email from a crewmate with a Kaomoji in it.” Shepard remarked with genuine amusement. Willing herself to leave her room and comfortable bed, Shepard walked into the bathroom, ran a brush through her hair once, and left to meet Kasumi.

 

 

Shepard’s face instantly broke into a laughing smile, aghast chuckles erupting from her chest, as she stepped off the elevator.

Right smack-dab in the middle of the window overlooking the cargo bay was a massive poster that ran the height of the glass. The art was somewhat comic book styled with red, blue, and grey as the primary colors. Upon the absolute treasure before her was the Turian Councilor Sparatus, his hands raised in air quotes, and above him in bold block white text,

 

“Ah yes, Reapers.”

 

Kasumi uncloaked and Shepard turned, wide eyes and contagious smile in excited astonishment, to stare at her for a moment before looking back at the poster. Shepard huffed laughs as Kasumi raised a camera she pulled out of a pocket. Happy to participate in commemorating this historic occasion, Shepard held her arms up toward the poster as if praising it, slightly bending her legs in a lunge, and visage excitedly open mouthed as if she were singing holy verses in exuberant awe. Kasumi then leapt next to Shepard as she lifted the camera once more, turning the lens toward them to take a selfie. Obliging once more, Shepard pointed, with an excited expression, at the masterpiece behind her as Kasumi stuck her tongue out at the camera.

When Kasumi put the camera back in her pocket she asked with amusement, “So, you like it?”

Shepard laughed aloud and put her hands on her hips, “Are you kidding? I love it! Where the hell did you get this thing printed?”

“For ‘potentially worrisome political implications’ I had to find someone who was willing to do it for a little extra pay instead of just a normal shop. The guy I found to do it really wanted to know the story behind it, but I didn’t even know it yet.”

“You didn’t know the story? Then why did you want this printed?” Shepard asked turning to her with bright eyed curiosity.

“This was Joker’s idea. Apparently, he’s been carrying the notion around with him for a while and thought I could get it for him… and I did. I showed it to him yesterday when I got it and he said I needed to surprise you by putting it somewhere clever.”

“If we make it out alive of this whole Collector business and have a party, I want this to be there.” Shepard said grinning up at it and shaking her head with amusement.

“Good!” Kasumi said amused. “I admit, once Joker finally told me the story I ordered a few smaller copies in case anyone aboard wanted one to put in their room or something.”

Shepard casually clapped a hand on Kasumi’s shoulder, “Miss Goto… you’re a creative genius of the people.”

With a broad smile and a small chuckle Kasumi took a few steps back and shot Shepard with an artfully flourished finger-gun before cloaking and disappearing from sight.


	12. 12. August, Thane, Mordin

 

[2185, Sol System month of “August”; Normandy SR-2]

 

It was currently Shepard’s job, and personal desire, to follow the leads The Illusive Man gave her, but this one was particularly putting her on edge. The Illusive Man was so skilled at finding and using information to get exactly what he wanted, and despite all the effort he put into bringing her back “for the good of humanity”, she had no doubt he’d mince words and twist stories to make sure he got exactly what he wanted as often as possible.

At the moment, she found herself standing outside Thane’s room, staring at the lock. In the last few days she’d spoken to him more frequently, hoping her initial reaction of discomfort could be dispelled over time by learning his body language a bit better. He was far more reserved than the Turians, and Shepard was capable of reliably understanding Garrus's body language, so she was willing to accept the challenge.

In the few conversations she’d engaged in with him, she’d learned a great deal and found what he was willing to share of his history genuinely interesting. The first time he'd slipped into a memory, she'd been curious why he also recounted their events aloud. Perhaps he only did this when in the presence of someone who was comfortable to communicate with? When questioned, admittedly, his comments about solipsism were quite a bit more _personal_ than she’d intended; however, he hadn't hesitated to use those examples as the explanation. She assumed the more they talked the more he'd feel comfortable with doing so, and she'd been right. He was still formal, but every once in a while she'd ask a question that made him falter. It was clear he wasn't accustomed to having someone speak with him about personal matters and cultural history. Shepard honestly wanted Samara and Thane to become good friends at some point, but thus far, it appeared they didn't interact with one another much. 

She heard the lock turn from within and the doors slid open as he stepped to the side.

 

“Commander Shepard.” He said politely in greeting. “Please,” he indicated with his hand behind him to invite her in.

She nodded in thanks before walking to the window overlooking the drive core. “I’d appreciate it if you help me in reasoning through our current circumstance.” Briefly, she looked over her shoulder to see him watching her with a placid expression.

Hands behind his back he approached the position next to her and they both fixed their gaze on the room before them. She took his silence as an invite to confide in him and his thoughts, which she hadn’t honestly expected.

“The Illusive Man stated the turians took out the collector ship, but he specified it was on a general patrol, not a war ship. He said very specifically the turian ship was crippled, but not before they were able to send out a distress call.” Her sentences were short, almost listing out the details, “The Collector ship is still in the area, apparently not moving. No evidence is left of the turian ship that was either destroyed or partially hit before escape, the second option seems unlikely. The two main ways I can think-“ she started, her head dropping slightly, her gaze drifting to the window sill, “-are with the Thanix cannons the turians redesigned from Sovereign’s main gun, but I doubt that’s the kind of fire power you’d regularly equip on a patrol ship… The other possibility- no… that doesn’t make sense either.”

Thane watched her from the corner of his eyes for a moment, still remaining silent, observing her hardened expression.

“The SSV was in stealth drive when the collector ship that found her took her out. Let’s say hypothetically they had similar cloaking tech, even so they wouldn’t have been able to plant enough EMP charges in the vicinity to take out a ship that large… Not to mention most of the galaxy still doesn’t realize the Collectors exist, and Garrus has filled me in on how the Citadel managed to effectively deny the existence of Reapers to keep the peace in the general population. So, they wouldn’t have planned that mission on purpose.”

“You’re worried The Illusive Man has orchestrated a trap.” Thane said solemnly.

“It seems rather obvious…” she started.

“He needs you alive.” He continued, turning his head to look at her more pointedly. “So, either he has more faith in you and your squad’s abilities, or all of this is merely a means to an end.” He said straightening his shoulders and once more fixing his gaze out the window.

She nodded glancing at him sidelong, “Possibly… but _two_ years.” She said shaking her head confused, “He spent two years bringing _me_ back to life because he thought humanity-“ Her sentence faltered, she wasn’t exactly sure what to say. The Illusive Man had said that humanity needed _her_ , but the reality of that was difficult to accept.

With a frustrated shrug she continued, “As if I was, _am_ , something _anyone_ should believe in.” A derisive snort escaped her mouth and she turned around, leaning against the window and somewhat facing him as he mimicked her and leaned back against the table behind him.

“You don’t believe it to be true.” He stated rather than asked.

“No, I don’t.” She said squinting at him slightly, “I’m _just_ a soldier. I happened to be assigned the right mission at the right time, in the right position of leadership.” She motioned with her hand in a circle and rolled her eyes slightly, “and I was determined enough to use the privileges given to me to pursue solving a problem… That’s _it_.” Her brow furrowed and she shook her head slowly, inexplicably annoyed at her circumstance.

A moment of silence passed between them before he tilted his head slightly and motioned toward her with an open hand, “In my short time aboard this ship, I’ve spent a decent amount of time _listening_ to your crew. I’ve also participated in several conversations with the two aboard who were with you on the original Normandy, Garrus and Tali.”

Her brow furrowed in confusion. She didn’t think he ever left this room, let alone spoke with the others aboard. Curiosity kept her silent hoping he’d share some of what he may have learned.

“In some of those conversations we’ve shared personal and cultural history, but several conversation have been focused on _you_.” He paused momentarily, “Shepard, you seem to have confused _yourself_ regarding why you’re here. From recent personal experience, it takes _one_ opportunity to observe how you work, and a single conversation with one of your comrades to understand what you mean to those you have impacted. Some people accomplish great things and may never be remembered for it. You have _combated_ absolutely terrible things, and most _deny_ they exist.”

He paused for a moment, moving his gaze from her to the window before him, “Being in the wrong place at the wrong time is an incalculable risk, but finding yourself in the _right_ place at the _right_ time is a testament to something greater.”

His arms were crossed over his torso before he reaffixed his gaze toward her, “There will always be those who ridicule you, claiming you didn’t earn your place here, those who slander you and don’t believe in your expertise, but that negativity will never diminish the _good_ you have done… and anyone who would do so clearly never spent a moment in your presence.”

He leaned forward slightly to make sure she listened very closely to his next words, “You _are_ what humanity needs, and everyone aboard this ship would be remiss to deny it. For the sake of your own mental stability and the unanimity of your crew… I advise you never forget that while you were chosen as the figure head of this operation, but you _are_ _not alone_ in your pursuits.”

Shepard maintained eye contact with him for a moment, as if attempting to search his expression for any sign of insincerity. Upon finding none, she shifted her gaze a bit uncomfortably to the table in front of her.

Bracing his hands on the table on either side of him, he finished his statement kindly, “The Collector vessel you believe to be a trap, I think, you also realize is a necessary risk.” He started, offering a conversational wave of his hand, “You rely on your team and the Normandy crew to get you off the vessel again just as much as they are relying on you to find answers.”

He paused, looking at the floor for a moment before returning his gaze to her despondent expression, “You place so much weight on yourself to carry everyone through what you think are your own challenges. They’re not _yours_.” He clarified lifting his chin slightly, prompting her to lift her gaze and make eye contact with him again, “You depend on them too, and they’re more than happy to follow you because you’ve earned it… not just because you demand it. Even if The Illusive Man attempts to dispose of you, although the possibility seems highly unlikely, we would all be _proud_ to have followed you.”

Her jaw jutted sideways for a moment as she chewed the inside of her cheek in thought, “I’m surprised to hear you say that.” She conveyed honestly.

With a nod of recognition he acknowledged, “We’ve previously discussed my ability to follow orders, what I referred to as my battle sleep, doing only what I was told. A part of me that accomplishes his task the way it should be done and has no other thoughts or emotions about it.” He said placing his hands in his lap as he leaned against the table.

She looked at him silently acknowledging his words. The way he’d spoken about himself as merely a weapon, and not the wielder… The distinction between the two within one body was originally a difficult idea to accept.

“but, to convey this clearly,” he started, “this has been a vastly different experience than anything I’ve previously encountered, and I’m… _thankful_ to be a part of it.”

Shepard held his gaze for a moment, once more searching his face for anything hidden amongst his kind words. Breaking her observation, she looked away and nodded, speaking slowly and seriously, “My apologies, I didn’t intend for this to be the topic of conversation.”

He slid along the edge of the table until he rested directly in front of her and leaned forward slightly, “If conversations always _stayed on topic_ , we’d lose the opportunity to learn valuable information about the people we care for.”

A huff of a laugh escaped her nose, half disbelieving, half agreeing, “Of course,” she started with a small smile. Following a brief silence she said quietly, “I should go. Thank you for speaking with me.”

He smiled up at her as he sat on the edge of the table, “Of course.”  

 

\---

 

[2185, Sol System month of “August”; Normandy SR-2]

 

“Mordin, I’m sorry to bother you, but do you have a minute to talk?”

“Yes! Good timing in fact. Made breakthrough. Can share results while next samples grow. Hate waiting for culture analysis. Never fast enough. Usually know result in advance. Just… checking work. Have to be careful.” He shook his head and furrowed his brow, “Getting off track. My discovery. New data. Collectors _not natural_. **Extensive** genetic modification. May be seeing slave caste… Unintelligent.”

“They’re a sentient race, what do you mean unintelligent?” she prompted tilting her head slightly to one side.

“Think of rachni. Drones, unintelligent. Process information, transfer sensory data to queen. Individuals just smart enough to follow orders. Not same situation.” He shook his head and appeared to be disgusted, “Loathe metaphors. Pander to uneducated masses. Get doctorate, have real conversation…” he said waiving his hand dismissively, “Collectors possess _technology_ , not culture.”

“I’m sorry, I… don’t follow.” She admitted, wincing slightly.

“Example: weapons not ergonomically suited to manipulation. Comfort, ease of user, not important in design. Or note, synthesized protein chains used for energy attacks. Complex, but clumsy. Causes long-term damage to collector tissue. Could have accomplished same goal without damaging self. Didn’t. Don’t care about individuals. No, worse, active contempt.” He said glaring at her in displeasure.

“Are you sure this is really a lack on their part, not just a difference in culture?” she queried.

“Impossible. If Collectors hive minded, would _withdraw_ injured members for repair. Simple utility. Collectors _attack until dead_. Similar to mechs… _husks_. No self-preservation. No injury treatment. No _imagination_.” He emphasized with slicing the air with his hand at every short statement, “Collectors not just dangerous. _Abomination_. Culture without art, growth, _potential_ … **Evil**.”

Genuinely taken aback, Shepard mentioned, “I’m surprised you’d actually want the Collectors destroyed completely. You’ve been arguing for diversity since we visited Tuchanka.”

“Yes! Exactly. Mourn loss of rachni. Lost potential. Pleased we adapted genophage to avoid necessity of destroying all krogan. But Collector culture different. No diversity… No growth… Brute technology. If working for Reapers, long-term goal is eradication of organic life. Collectors are a force of destruction. Don’t help galaxy _evolve_ except when other species adapt to fight them! Need to be _destroyed_.”

“Five minutes until approach, Commander.” Joker mentioned over comms.

Nodding her thanks to Mordin, she called out her thanks to Joker as she power-walked to the elevator, skipped the steps in her room and rushed to affix her armor.


	13. 13. August, Collector Vessel

 

[2185, Sol System month of “August”; Collector Vessel]

 

 

On approach to the collector ship, EDI confirmed there was no visible damage to the side of the vessel they were approaching, most systems weren’t registering, thrusters were cold and the drive core was completely offline.

Joker caught on quickly, “That thing is massive! How the hell did the turians take it out?”

He glanced up at Shepard to see her eyes narrow slightly and she was chewing on the inside of her lip. When she returned his gaze, he understood immediately that for the benefit of the rest of the crew, she wasn’t voicing her thoughts on the scenario. Understanding, but now less curious and more concerned, he refocused on what he was doing and how to prepare for extraction.

“60 seconds to contact, Commander.” He relayed to her, giving her just enough time to make it down to the shuttle in the cargo bay.

Upon exiting the shuttle, Shepard inhaled sharply and stared pointedly at the ground for a few seconds, clearing her throat and shaking her head as Garrus remarked sarcastically, “I love what they’ve done with the place.”

“It looks like a giant insect hive.” Tali commented, as they both looked around.

Upon noticing Shepard hadn’t moved from where she initially stood and was staring intently at the ground, Tali questioned, “Shepard? Are you okay?”

Before she could respond, EDI interjected, “Penetrating scans have detected an access node to uplink with the Collector databanks. Marking the location on your hard-suit computer.”

 

Shepard had frozen again, her gaze searching the ground beneath her, grip on the gun in her hand almost like she was cradling it against her stomach… Something about this ship. She hadn’t paused in surprise or mere disgust, something about this place had rattled her core. Garrus could hear her taking slow deep breaths in an attempt to calm her mind. As Tali continued to observe the ship, he turned his gaze to Shepard instead. Her eyes were scanning the ground at a rapid pace before freezing in one spot and fixating on it with a piercing intensity. This wasn’t the first time he’d seen that expression, a few times he’d seen it after a battle. Her gaze distant and lost, until they met his.

 

_What was one of the last things Shepard saw after the Normandy was torn apart and she...?_

 

One of those views must have been the Collector ship. 

He noticed as she steeled herself to advance, she lifted her head and pointedly looked to him for silent reassurance of some kind. He already knew now wasn't the proper time to ask questions, but she definitely wasn't looking for pity. Resolutely, he did his best to convey resilience and confidence when she looked to him. When she looked away, however, his brow furrowed and his jaw flexed slightly in concern.

 

‘ _Ask her later_ ’

 

“Shepard, I have compared the ship’s EM signature to known Collector profiles. It is the vessel you encountered on Horizon.” EDI informed.

“The missing colonists might be aboard.” Garrus wished aloud, “If… they’re still alive.” He concluded.

“These are the same containers the collectors used on Horizon,” Tali interjected as they passed by several scattered about, “Only… these are empty.”

Garrus uttered a low, almost inaudible growl, “Horrible… Trapped in these pods. Completely at the mercy of the collectors.” 

Keeping their weapons drawn, but relaxed, they continued walking in silence. Walking side by side, Garrus glanced at Shepard and Tali out of the corner of his eye. Both he and Tali had been looking around the space, observing the disgusting horror that the Collectors apparently considered to be prime aesthetic, but Shepard’s gaze fixed on the space before her. Her eyes didn’t wander. There was no sign of her normally observant and curious self, investigating interesting nuances she found as they walked past.

 

‘ _Ask her later…_ ’

 

As they approached a pile of bodies, he heard Shepard sigh, but that was the only comment she seemed to feel like offering.

“Why… would they leave a pile of bodies lying around?” Tali questioned aloud.

 With a perturbed tone, he responded with his hypothesis, “Must have been used for testing… I’d say these subjects didn’t pass.”

“There are worse things than death.” Shepard said, forcing a wry grin onto her visage, “Like… being test subjects for twisted aliens.” She continued, a bit quieter than before.

“Was that supposed to make me feel better?” Tali queried, “Because it didn’t.”

“Yeah…” Shepard said with a huffed laugh, “well, I’ve got a really good feeling about this place, so I’m sure it’ll get better.” She quipped, turning away from the bodies.

Barely thirty seconds later she approached a pod connected to some kind of analysis center and remarked with forced emotion in her voice, “Oh, look… it got better…”

“That’s a collector…” Garrus continued, “Were they experimenting on one of their own?”

Shepard nodded, “Mordin mentioned they have a complete lack of care for their own. I wasn’t quite sure if he was saying they’re an independently selfish species or if it’s just... yeah I don't really know." she admitted, shaking her head a bit clueless.

“What do you mean by independently selfish?”

“Let’s say you were unarmed. You and a few friends are about to be chased by several fully grown rachni. It’s a save yourself kind of situation, and the only constituent relies on you being faster than the slowest person in the group. Obviously, _we_ wouldn’t naturally _desire_ to make that choice, but Mordin thinks the Collectors have based their entire… _society_ , or whatever, on that principle. Fight until the goal is accomplished, regardless of how many die.” Just to make herself chuckle a little she added with a stern expression, “Hold the line!” while using little chopping motions with her hand. “but obviously, not in a… good… way.”

Tali and Garrus both just stared at her, a bit unsure of what to do with her joke, so she turned to the console and said, “EDI, I’m uploading the data from this terminal. See if you can figure out what they were up to.”

“Data received. Analyzing… The Collectors were running baseline genetic comparisons between their species and humanity.”

“Are they looking for potential similarities?” She asked, staring down at the Collector lying motionless in the cask.

“I have no hypotheses worth stating about their intentions without more data. All I have are the preliminary results; however, they reveal something remarkable… A _quad-strand_ genetic structure. Identical in traces collected from ancient ruins. Only one race is known to have this structure… The Protheans.”

“Mm… Great, so they aren’t gone, they’re just working for the Reapers now?” She questioned crossing her arms and glaring at them.

“These are no longer Protheans, Shepard. Their genes show distinct signs of extensive genetic rewrite. The reapers have repurposed them to suit their needs.”

“So the Reapers didn’t fully wipe out the Protheans. They turned them into monsters and enslaved them.” With a long breath, Shepard turned to look at her comrades and although in her helmet, they couldn’t see her forcefully smiling, it was still obvious the intent, “See… I told you I had a good feeling about this place.” Sighing, she continued, “Let’s find what we need before the Collectors come to salvage this vessel…”

Garrus and Tali walked past her as she stood, staring for a moment longer at the once-prothean lying before her. Once she finally turned around, her foot slammed solidly into a pile of weapons. Bending down, she picked up what looked like a sniper rifle. With a growing excited grin, she reloaded the empty chamber, aimed down the hallway, and fired.

Both of her comrades whirled around, staring at her startled.

“Ohhhhhhhh, _baby_!” Shepard said with a childlike excitement. “Garrus, you’re gonna _love_ this thing.”

Returning to her side, Shepard hefted the 39 kilo (86 lb) rifle up to him. His eyes widened considerably as he lifted it to look down the scope. “Shepard, this… isn’t made for humans.”

“I know.” She said with a crinkle in her eyes that conveyed she was smiling.

“No, I mean… how did you fire it and not shatter your collar bone?” He asked dropping it to a resting position and staring at her with a concerned expression.

“For one, armor padding, and two, probably something Cerberus related. Honestly, who knows if my bones are still made of calcium?”

“Human bones are made of _calcium_?” Tali asked alarmed, “The density of calcium is so- how?” She stammered. “Keelah, I am so sorry.” She said putting a hand to the surface of her mask.

Shepard chuckled, “What for?”

“That one time I hugged you really hard and you said ‘Tali, you’re going to break my ribs’ I didn’t think that-“

“-Tali…” Shepard interrupted gently, “It _was_ a joke. Don’t worry. If you haven’t noticed, we’re pretty durable.”

She nodded, but remained silent. “Really, Tali.” Shepard clarified, making sure Tali understood.

“Alright, Shepard.” Tali said quietly in acknowledgement.

Turning to Garrus, Shepard looked up at him and questioned, “So, you want it?”

“For my collection someday, maybe… but I don’t want to use this in the fights we find ourselves in.” He said collapsing it and affixing it to her back.

“What? Really? Why not?” She asked turning her head to look at him from the corner of her eye with a somewhat sad expression.

“It would be fun every once in a while, but this is the kind of weapon you bring with you for taking out a tank, or a Krogan. This is a one or two shot, walk away deal. Not a… _several heat sinks later_.” He said with an amused tone in his voice as they all turned to walk down the hallway together, “Plus, it’s pretty–… It looks-uh _good_ \- I mean, you… seem excited about it, and you can clearly handle it. Knock yourself out.” He stammered.

Shepard chuckled and grinned up at him before returning her focus in front of her and commenting, “ _Maybe_ I will.”  

Tali lifted her shoulder and laid the side of her mask on it in an expression of adoration as Shepard looked in Garrus’s direction.

As soon as Shepard looked ahead, Garrus and Tali dropped a bit behind her, and Garrus’s eyes immediately narrowed slightly at Tali as he growled just out of Shepard’s ear shot, “ _not a word, Tali’Zorah nar Rayya.”_

“I would _never_ , Garrus Vakarian.” She quipped.

 

\---

 

“Look at the ceiling.” Tali started, “More of those pods.”

Shepard’s gaze was once again fixed on the floor and Garrus could swear he heard very very quiet whispers of ‘ _nope_! **no,** no, no, noooope… nope!’ as she walked through the hallway avoiding all possible vision of the pods arranged on the ceiling.

Curious though, he looked around, “There must be hundreds of them. How many do you think are full?”

“Too many.” Shepard said with a tone of voice that sounded like it accompanied a gaze that could bend metal if she stared at it long enough.  

“I detect no signs of life in the pods, Shepard. It is probable the victims inside died when the ship lost primary power.” EDI interjected.

Barely a minute later, as they began to traverse a dramatic incline, Joker’s voice interrupted their thoughts, “Commander? You gotta hear this. On _a hunch_ ,” Joker emphasized, eluding to Shepard’s silent, but clear indication not to discuss it before she boarded, “I asked EDI to run an analysis on this ship.”

EDI continued the conversation, “I compared the EM profile against data recorded by the Normandy two years ago. They are an _exact_ match.”

Shepard half groaned, half growled, “So the same ship has been dogging me for two years… There’s no way that’s a coincidence.”

“Yeah, something doesn’t add up, Shepard. Watch your back.” Joker concluded.

As he finished speaking, Shepard, Garrus, and Tali emerged from the lower level to reveal a cavern filled with pods arranged in a pattern that made Shepard want to puke.

“Keelah.” Aghast, Tali stopped to stare at the ceiling.

“They could take every human in the Terminus Systems and still not have enough to fill these pods.” Garrus commented with both awe and horror in his voice.

“They’re going to target Earth…” Tali indicated.

“Not if we _stop_ them!” Shepard called out from where she was already disappearing into the next tunnel.

Garrus and Tali exchanged glances with one another regarding Shepard’s strange behavior before jogging to catch up.

 

\---

 

“EDI, I think we found the control panel you mentioned.” Shepard commented upon approach.

“Shepard…” Garrus began, “Something doesn’t feel right about this…”

“I know.” Shepard said looking at him to convey the resolute and guilty emotions coursing through her as she commented once more, “EDI, I’m setting up a bridge between you and the Collector ship. See if you can get anything useful from the data banks.”

“Data mine in progress, Shepard.”

Mere seconds later, a lurch sent them stumbling slightly to maintain balance as if the ship had suddenly come back to life.

“Uh, that can’t be good.” Joker managed to say just before sounds of chaos erupted around her.

“Joker, status report.” She demanded, worried for the Normandy crew’s safety.

“Major power surge. Everything went dark, we’re back up now, but-uh some ugly ass bug thing took over EDI’s hologram…”

EDI interrupted him with an actual status report, “I managed to divert the majority of the overload to non-critical systems… but, Shepard, it was not a malfunction. This was a trap.”

The platform beneath their feet jolted and rose rapidly, everyone stumbled and she heard Garrus’s back connect with the platform floor. She turned around to help, but Tali was already steady and offering him a hand to his feet. With a nod that they were both fine, she turned her head back around to assess the situation before them.

“EDI? We could use a little help here…” Shepard said looking up as another platform appeared to meet them amidst the cavern.

“I am having trouble maintaining connection. There’s someone else in the system.” EDI conveyed before a moment later she continued through the already ringing sounds of gunfire, “Connection reestablished. I need to finish the download before I can override any systems.”

“Then get it done, EDI. _Quickly_ , please…”

Shepard situated herself in a position with the most maneuverable cover and on one of the highest platforms available, bracing her new rifle on a ledge, made fairly short work of any opponents with a single head.

“Uuuugh, shut _up_ , Harbinger!” She called out at the glowing menace continued to flirt with her.

Garrus grinned slightly. Shepard had been so tense on this entire mission, maybe some yelling would be good for her.

“This hurts you…”

“Yeah, it might if you could fucking _aim_.” She taunted in return as another shot from her M-98 Widow erupted through the back of Harbinger’s skull.

“Embrace perfection…”

“Embrace _eternity,_ asshat.” Shepard growled as Harbinger took another Collector’s body.

“My attacks will tear you apart.”

“ _Clearly_ , since… I’ve been chilling over here and you’re the one that has to keep finding new bodies.”

“I sense your _weakness_.”

“Woooow, really? My bullets seem to be pretty good at finding yours!”

“Relinquish your form to us.”

“Ugh, pervert.”

“Evolution cannot be stopped.”

“Oof, has evolution been going through some things? Cause this aesthetic _really_ sucks.”

 

Garrus was struggling to maintain focus and not pulling the trigger before he could slow his breathing and control the chuckles making his shoulders shake.

 

“I have regained control of the platform, Shepard.” EDI’s voice interrupted the insult war as Shepard reloaded her rifle again. Peeking up over the barricade, she sighed as she stood, “I knew you wouldn’t let us down, EDI.”

“I always work at optimal capacity.” EDI conveyed with a semi joking tone in her voice that made Shepard smile.

“Did you find what we needed?” Shepard queried as she collapsed her rifle and attached it to her back.

“I found data that could help us successfully navigate the Omega 4 relay… but I have also found the turian destress call that served as the lure for this trap. The collectors were the source, but… it is unusual.”

“Meaning?” Shepard asked tilting her head slightly.

“Turian emergency channels have secondary encryption. It is present, but corrupted in the message… It is not possible that the Illusive Man would believe the distress call was genuine.”

“What makes you so sure?”

“I found the anomaly with Cerberus detection protocols… He _wrote_ them.”

Everything about this situation had put Garrus on edge, but EDI’s confirmation made him momentarily livid. Betrayal was quickly becoming all too regular of an occurrence in his life.

Shepard, however, was merely resigned. She sighed and shook her head before asking EDI to help them find a way out.

 

\---

 

“Praetorian!” Garrus shouted as Shepard fought off a small group of Husks.

As the last one charged toward her, she whipped around to face the massive ugly floating blob. “You have _got_ to be kidding me!”

Pulling out her sniper rifle with warp ammo equipped, she ducked behind the furthest and highest point of cover she could find and mumbled as Garrus aimed and fired beside her, “Listen here you fucker…” Shepard began speaking quietly to the Praetorian as she fired.

“I am going to get _off_ this god damn ship-“ another shot from her ridiculously heavy rifle interrupted her.

“and I’m going to go take a nice warm shower-“ each time she pulled the trigger, he winced a bit. Her shoulder was going to be so bruised.

“and figure out how to help all my comrades with personal struggles-“ Her back muscles would be painfully tight.

“and drink a cup of tea in silence-“ She shuffled to a new area of cover as it attempted to get a clear line of fire on her.

 

_*dink dink dink dink dink dink*_

 

Six shots fired from her missile launcher and a few more quick shots from Garrus’s sniper rifle and already it was down.

“and then murder _every last one of you and all of your twisted siblings_.” Shepard finished as she stood, clearly tired, walked up to the squealing corpse and spat on it with disgust.

Garrus’s face was fixed in a reserved adoring expression as Tali hopped up next to him and nudged him slightly with her elbow. Shepard was already advancing toward the new door EDI had opened and Joker had just informed them of how dire the situation to get out was actually becoming.

Now sprinting, everyone essentially elbowed their way past the Husks between them and the exit, and leapt into the shuttle. If only it were possible for a shuttle to make a squealing sound as it turned rapidly midair and gunned it for the cargo bay of the Normandy.

Before the shuttle stopped in the cargo bay, Shepard opened the door and leapt out, rolling to break her fall and took off sprinting for the elevator, Garrus and Tali on her heels. One reaching the CIC, Shepard once again ran toward the pilot’s seat and almost face planted into the back of Joker’s chair as the ship lurched and turned away from the beam that had just fired at them.

“Hang on! I am _not_ losing another Normandy!” Joker called out as Shepard gripped the back of his chair and stared out the front window into darkness with no way to judge how quickly they were moving. The serenity of the outside world seemed to contrast so highly with the situation they were currently in. When they kicked into FTL, Joker and Shepard relaxed slightly and she clapped him on the shoulder with a free hand, offering a relieved laugh.

“Nicely done, Joker.”


	14. 14. August, Garrus, Shepard

 

[2185, Sol System month of “August”; Normandy SR-2]

 

All lights in the ship dimmed, save for the red-emergency glow on the floors. Despite no external dedicated sun for maintaining any kind of Circadian Rhythm, the lights on the Normandy would have to do. As most of the day crew piled in the elevator to find their respective bunks, Samara arose from her seated position on the floor of the Starboard Observation and stood in front of the elevator doors as the staff poured out. When the space within was clear she stepped aboard and rode up to the CIC.

She was currently draped in an elegant black cotton night gown that looked more like a sundress than anything. Her feet were bare, and her crown removed for the night. Quietly making her way past the glowing hologram of the Normandy, she wound her way up towards the Pilot’s seat.

When the doors opened, she found Joker yawning as he turned around to see who’d come up to greet him.

“Samara?” He asked aloud, a little surprised.

“Hello, Joker.” She greeted, her voice as calm and lulling as always.

“You, uh… Need something?” He asked turning his chair to face her.

“I do not require the amount of sleep others aboard this ship do. At times, I hear restless feet wandering the halls, looking for anywhere to feel comfortable. So, I have given the rest of the crew my room during the nights. It is quiet, calming…” She said sitting on the floor, legs crossed as she normally did, off to the side, and a decent distance away from him.

“Wow, that’s really- thoughtful, I’m sure someone will appreciate it.” He paused for a moment, observing as her eyes began to glow white again. “So, are you gonna, stay here all night?”

“I don’t know.” She began gently, tilting her head slightly, “If you would rather me leave, I will do so.”

“Nah,” he said lifting a hand and shaking his head lightly in a casual denial. “I’ll be laying this seat back and sleeping soon though.” He said to let her know.

“Of course, I will sit by the Galaxy Map when you retire.”

 

\---

  

TO: Shepard

CC: Garrus, Tali, Thane, Zaeed, Kasumi, Grunt, Mordin, Jacob, Miranda, Joker

I will no longer be spending the nights in Starboard Observation. It will be available to any and all of you when you encounter nights where your mind will not let you rest.

I hope you find peace.

 

\- Samara

 

 

Garrus looked at the clock after reading the email and sighed.

02:40.

Samara sent this message out around 00:20 and he’d been lying awake, staring at the ceiling above him, the wall next to him, the cot below him… _restless_.

Swinging his feet over the end of his cot he sighed forcefully and stared at the ground before him. At the moment, leaving this room sounded very appealing. “Samara…” he whispered in thanks with a small grin, “The second mother-of-the-ship next to Dr. Chakwas.”

 

After his shower that night, he’d slipped clean under armor garments on his lower half. Mess Sgt. Gardener had brought his laundry up to him once on his delivery rounds and commented with almost… admiration how incredibly durable his “leggings” were.

“Do all turians wear those?” he’d asked, setting the large basket on his back down, as Garrus extracted the tied bag of folded clothes labelled “Garrus”.

“Yeah, pretty much.” He’d said with a shrug. “Loosely fitting or soft cloth on our lower halves are torn too easily.”

Not wanting the conversation to become too awkward, Mess Sgt. Gardener had wished him a good day as Garrus thanked him for the clean laundry and they’d both returned to work.

 

 

Remaining seated, Garrus removed the lid from the crate beside his bed and extracted the Cerberus zip-up hoodie Yeoman Chambers had ordered custom sized for every crew member. Of course, Cerberus had spared no expense. While the inside of his hoodie in particular was still lined with soft fabrics, the sharp edges from his scarred and chipped dermal plating didn’t catch any small fibers.

While he wasn’t a fan of now owning a _custom made **Cerberus** hoodie_, it was incredibly comfortable…

His armor lay on the floor beside his feet. Staring at it momentarily, he shifted his gaze to the console across from him. He was too alert to sleep, but maybe getting some work done would help? His brain promptly vetoed that idea and he huffed another dejected sigh before standing and padding barefooted down the hallway toward Starboard Observation.

He hadn’t brought his omnitool with him, so he silently thanked Samara for leaving the door unlocked. Part of him hoped the room would be empty… maybe give him a chance to clear his head, but as the doors slid open upon approach, Shepard’s bright eyes caught his own.

“You saw her email.” Shepard stated with a warm smile.

He slid his hands in the hoodie pockets and nodded with a small confirming grin, “Do you want to be alone?”

She ushered him in with a welcoming hand, “No, no you’re fine. Sit with me… Unless _you_ wanted to be alone?” She asked looking up at him with a slight wince.

“Believe it or not,” He started, sitting down with a grunt, “I’m rather fond of company.”

She grinned at him, lifting her mug of tea to her chin, appreciating the scent of the warm vapors as she questioned with a teasing tone, “Oh… _really_?”

He nodded, took his hands out of his pockets, let them rest clasped in his lap, and emphasized with a casual shrug, “With the right people.”

She took a sip of her tea and he asked, “What flavor?” looking down at her mug.

“Blueberry-black with honey and milk.” Holding the mug out to him she asked, “Want to try it?”

“Uhm, sure but… just in case, let me grab one of those Reversal tablets.” He said leaning forward to stand up.

She reached out to touch his wrist, and held her hand out toward him, pinching something between her fingers.

Holding out his palm, she dropped one into it and grinned at him, “Dr. Chakwas got my order in today. Now, just in case, I’m devoted to keeping at least two on my person at all times. I have a little pill-box for them.” She clarified.

With a grin, he dropped it down the back of his throat and swallowed. His jaw flexed and his eyes narrowed for a moment.

“Bad taste?” she asked with a ‘sorry’ expression.

“A bit, but I’ve definitely had worse.” He answered with a grin showing in his eyes.

A moment of silence passed between them as she handed him her mug. He stared down at the milky leaf water, his eyes bright with warmth and nostalgia. “My mother _loved_ tea.” He commented with a gently-happy tone.

From what she'd observed in the past, turians always tipped back a half-mug, or less, of any liquid all at once. Glancing at the mug now in his hands, she noticed about half remained and assumed he'd have to drink it all in order not to spill it. 

“Are you sure you’re okay with me trying this? I don’t want to-“ He started before she interrupted him.

“-It’s fine. I can always make more.” She said with a grin, intrigued by his hesitation.

A bit shyly, he stuck the tip of his tongue out as he held the mug up to his mouth. He waited a moment, then brought his tongue back into his mouth before dipping it in the mug again. Three times he did so, slowly, before handing the mug back to her.

“Capillary action?” She asked tilting her head and accepting the mug.

“Eh… something like that. It’s a similar process for sure… I'm-uh, sorry if that was... gross or-”

“ _Non-human?"_   She queried with a sardonic tone to make him realize he had no good reason to be embarrassed, “ _Relax_ , you’re fine.”

He huffed a laugh and his eyes crinkled slightly in mirth. 

“I'm curious though, normally you just knock it back all at once.” She said tilting her head slightly.

“Well, for one, I didn’t want to take the rest of your tea, and another, I obviously don’t have soft lips like you do to sip from the rim or keep it from spilling in my lap if I pour too slowly. So, my only other option to taste something besides throwing it back is… what you saw." After a momentary pause, he pointed conversationally at her, "Now,  _water bottles_ I can do. The edge is a bit different and the water will actually pour out instead of run down the side.” He finished with a hand gesture to represent a shrug and offered a subtle chuckle.

She probably already knew this information, so he moved on, “It’s good by the way.” He said motioning to the mug in her hands.

“Good.” She said pleased, “Did you like tea as a kid, since you said your mom likes to make it?”

“Heh, when I was a kid, it took me a while to appreciate it, but eh- _yeah_ I missed the smell of it after... well, after I stopped visiting home.” He said glancing at her out of the corner of his eye.

A bit surprised she asked, “You just up and left home? How old were you?” Shepard inquired, resting the mug in her lap.

“I never went back after my second year in university." He attempted to offer a nonchalant shrug, "I never really contacted anyone besides my mom to begin with... when she could answer.” He started slowly, “but I mean... It-ah wasn’t until that second year that things _really_ started to go south and mom's health hit a pretty sharp decline. Dad blamed it on me.” He paused a moment and cleared his throat, eyes fixated on his hands.

“Are you saying he  _kicked_ you out?" She asked curiously. 

He huffed an emotionless laugh, “My dad probably considered it more of a dishonorable discharge..."

They shared a moment of tense silence before she commented gently, running her thumb around the rim of her mug, "I'm sorry... please-uh don't feel pressured to talk about this. You don’t have to.” 

He turned his head to look at her from over his cheek a bit before commenting quietly, "I don’t think I’ve ever talked about it with _anyone_ … but I haven't exactly made the right kind of friends to tell these things to anyway.” A nonchalant expression accompanied his realization as he looked at her gently and gave her a quick friendly grin, "I don't mind." He clarified.

With a contented grin, she prompted, “Were you there when your mom went through the worst of it?”

A single word escaped his mouth as his eyes pointedly met the floor, careful to direct all hostility away from her, “No…" The cold brutality in his tone collided with the floor like a slammed foot before dissolving into mist.

 

For a moment it seemed like that was all he was going to say, but he soon continued, "She-ah... her health was holding steady for a while, but she hit a really harsh down-turn while I was away at college when something... _ridiculous_ happened to _me_ in my second year. I don't know...  maybe she was _just_ fragile enough that the stress finally hit her full-force. You know how the brain can impact disease progression." He said nodding sideways at her.

Clasping his hands together a bit more tightly than necessary he continued, "After that, my dad told me to leave." He said with a matter-of-fact tone, raising his chin slightly, "I'd caused enough trouble for everyone over the years and knowing him, he probably didn't think I would ever change unless I was forced to.” He offered a snort of a laugh, "Pretty sure I still haven't changed."

He looked up, gazing out the floor-to-ceiling window before them. “I was technically an adult. I could take care of myself, but the way it all went down..." He paused exhaling heavily, slowly, letting the air escape as calmly as possible, "Do you know, the strangest things about losing access to the person you care about _**most,** all at once_?” He asked forlornly, returning his gaze to meet hers, but her only response was a curious and gentle silence.

Closing his eyes momentarily, he swallowed before looking out the window again and taking a slow inhale, “My mother was the only person who _inspired_ me. Gave me _hope_ , and sometimes I swore she was the only person on the planet who genuinely _cared_  about me and what I wanted to do with my life." With a momentary pause, he sat up a bit more, resituating himself to try and appear a bit more confident, but his tone was a solemn rumble, "I've had the unfortunate experience of realizing there are startling similarities between having someone _force_ you away from someone you love so deeply, and being there when someone you care for dies." His gaze met earnestly with her own revealing a war between intense emotional pain and resolute determination to move past it.

Her brow furrowed and she tilted her head, once again silently asking for him to elaborate and he obliged with a slow sigh, "The parts of those experiences that _really_  stick with you later on, aren’t what you’d expect. When you think of someone else passing, or... _I don't know_ like a _break up_ , you think of seeing a dead body, lying there devoid of pain, or watching your ex walk away and sure, you're sad, but… when you're actually-” He trailed off, but Shepard could easily fill in the blanks in her own mind.

The taste in his mouth was bitter and his tongue felt rough against the roof of his mouth as he spoke, his jaw ached like he'd been clenching it for hours, and his body forced him to sigh again in an attempt to reduce the building stress, “It’s the indescribable  _weight_ of watching them hopelessly cling to any semblance of life, the scent of the room, the intensity of the lights, the pain in their breathing…" He made a disgusted expression and shook his head with some variant of misplaced anger, "The _**sounds** of your own **voice**..._ asking the spirits for some kind of miracle. All while recognizing you're _completely alone_ , and so are they." The aggression in his voice Shepard recognized as a coping mechanism she understood personally all too well.

He forcefully swallowed turning his head to look at her momentarily, “ _Those_ are the things that stick with you…” After a brief mutual silence, he hastily looked away from her, once again turning his gaze to the window, “and I would really prefer to live without ever experiencing all that for a _third_ time.” He finished raising his open hand in a dejected gesture.

He _knew_ she’d ask… He’d alluded to this a couple times already.

“Who was it that died?” She asked with an apprehensive expression.

Closing his eyes in acceptance he took a deep breath, “I-ah was collecting intel on a high profile target with a _damn good_ squad." He started, offering a hint of a reminiscing grin, "Unfortunately, we found ourselves in the middle of an ambush we couldn’t have anticipated.” Jaw flexing slightly in discomfort, brow furrowed, he took a slow breath to calm his heart rate, “Several of us were separated, quite a few died, but most of us who actually made it out weren’t badly injured.”

 

 

 

_Garrus, Liara, Dr. Chakwas and those in the Crew deck ran toward the escape pods, vaulting inside and strapping down as quickly as possible._

_Upon the pod’s release from the ship, his mind spun trying to think of a way to keep the non-combatant crew as calm as possible during the descent. With a brief moment of hesitation, he stared down at his omni-tool, an intense expression in his eyes as the crew listened to the partially noise-cancelled explosions from Shepard’s comm as she ran through the ship._

_With a frustrated expression, Garrus swiftly cut the comm feed from the commander to the rest of the crew. Whether that was the right or the wrong decision didn’t matter in the moment,_

_Liara looked around with a worried expression on her face when comms went silent before whispering, “She’ll make it… Shepard, you’d better make it.”_

 

 

 

“What happened to the rest of your team?” she asked, crossing her legs and sitting sideways on the couch to face him more directly.

“It was clear several of them were gone… whether from explosions or from being trapped and burned alive, but one of our crew had stayed behind to try and help, despite protests.” He said, gaze fixated on the slowly moving stars outside the window.

 

 

 

_The comms were quiet as Shepard stepped into open space, her grav boots holding her to the deck of the torn Normandy._

_Garrus attempted to conceal, as the escape pod hurtled toward the surface of the ice planet below, that he’d kept his line open to Shepard’s comms, listening intently to what was happening._

_“Come on, Joker… We have to get out of here!”_

_“No! I won’t abandon the Normandy! I can still save her!”_

_“The Normandy is dead, Joker! Just like us if we don’t get the hell out of here!”_

_“No, we just have to… Oh no... They’re coming around for another attack!”_

 

 

 

“Did they find who they were looking for?” She asked, brows furrowed in concern.

“Yeah… I uh… I’d cut comms from the rest of the team so they couldn’t hear what was going on.” He said looking at her with a guilty conscience.

“but you were still listening?” she prompted quietly.

He nodded, the tension in his throat making it temporarily impossible to offer a verbal reply.

 

 

 

_Explosions and powerful particle beams ripped the ship apart. Shepard growled as explosions set her off balance._

_“Ow! Watch the arm!” Joker yelled in a surprisingly calm kind of adrenaline filled panic._

_Shepard had presumably grabbed Joker, forcing him out of his chair. The two hobbling quickly toward the last emergency escape pod near the pilot’s seat._

_Another explosion._

_“Commander?!... SHEPARD!”_

_Joker yelled as the door closed._

_“No, no no no!” he wailed pounding on the door…_

**_Shepard wasn’t in the escape pod._ **

 

_**SHEPARD WASN'T -** _

_Heart pounding in Garrus’s throat, stomach forming a nauseating knot, panic making him dizzy. He had to remain still, pretend he couldn’t hear anything… for the solidarity of the crew._

 

 

“How did they die?” She asked gently, her voice now such a calm contrast to the horrible barrage of loud memories pounding in his skull.

“One of them made it out.” He whispered steeling himself to look at her directly, exhaling slowly before continuing, “The one who’d stayed… Pressed the _release_ on her pilot’s escape pod…”

He paused for a moment and swallowed as her eyes widened, registering the story he was telling, “Just before an explosion knocked her back into space.” His voice now deeper than normal, retelling the facts with a hardened expression, hiding the pain, “A piece of fractured metal pierced her oxygen tank… and for the next minute or two the sound of her _panicked gasping_ was the only thing I heard.” He looked away from her as he finished speaking, his entire body tense and distraught.

 

Her tea was cold. The whole room felt cold.

 

She reached a hand out and laid it on his left wrist as his eyes flicked to her hand, acknowledging her comforting touch. He unclasped his hands and laid his right atop hers in unanimity for a few seconds before he lifted his hand and she slowly pulled hers back toward her.

Neither of them really knew what to say, but Shepard attempted to fill the silence, prompting, “You mentioned you were depressed for a while when you all returned for the Citadel.” She started quietly.

He nodded before continuing, his tone deep and solemn, “Yeah… like I said doing nothing but thinking about it and drinking a lot with Wrex wasn’t helping, so I found something to do.”

She huffed a laugh, “By making yourself enemy number one to the largest gangs in Omega… You don’t know how to do anything half-assed do you?”

He chuckled now and turned his head to look at her with an amused side-long expression, “I guess not.”

Shepard finished her cold tea and laid the empty mug on the ground beside her, hoping that maybe bringing the conversation back to something normal might ground his thoughts, help him relax, “You need anything to drink or eat?” She asked him, a bit clueless on what else to offer.

He waved a hand, “Nah. Thank you, Shepard.”

A moment later he huffed a laugh and gazed at her side-long, “Is this our norm? Unable to sleep, mind trapped in memories of the past.”

She offered a solemn shrug, “I’m sure everyone does this at some point.” As she turned on the couch to once more face forward.

Shepard was seated closer to him than when he’d first sat down. He grinned slightly, his mind momentarily pleased with the proximity after the harmony they'd reached through the conversation they'd just had. Stretching his arms out along the back of the couch, he leaned back slightly, staring out the window before him with a calm smile in his eyes.

“I’m glad you told me.” She said turning her head to look up at him.

“Hm.” He said thoughtfully, looking at her out of the corner of his eye, “Why’s that?”

She grinned and shook her head, uncertain of how to answer his question but managed to say, “I need friends like you, Garrus.”

His left arm rested on the couch behind her and in response to her comment, he dropped his hand to the side of her upper arm in agreement, and offered a friendly grin, “Glad to be here, Shepard.” 


	15. 15. August, Garrus, Jack, Miranda, Liara

[Interview; Subject: Garrus Vakarian; late year 2189 CE, 3 years post Reaper Destruction.]

 

He snapped his fingers finally recalling a word he’d been searching for, “Trypophobia… That was it.” The small grin in his eyes soon accompanied the chuckles that emerged from his chest.

“She **_hated_** that collector vessel.” Shaking his head, he braced his elbows on the arm rests of the chair and fixed me in the first genuinely bright eyed expression I’d seen on his face.

“At first I hadn’t taken her seriously. I’d thought it was a joke. The great Commander Shepard, regularly walking past the goriest of scenes with a shrug and a whistle, could feel _physically_ _ill_ upon glimpsing anything that looked like eggs, seeds, or a bunch of holes really close together.”

He shook his head and huffed several laughs, “She and I were the only two sitting in the mess hall at some ungodly hours of the morning. We were both reading articles on our tablets, but she was eating some-“ He chuckled again, “-fresh strawberries we’d picked up on order from the Citadel. All of a sudden from the corner of my eye, I see her flick her wrist and the strawberry she’d been eating just, flew across the room and hit the wall. I looked over at her and my expression must have given away my confused amusement, ‘cause when I asked what just happened, she hunkered down in her seat, and just said quietly in an embarrassed voice, “The- I don’t know how to explain it, I paid too much attention to the seeds on it and they freaked me out”. With every moment my amusement grew, so I asked in a clearly entertained tone, “What about the seeds freaked you out exactly?”. She covered her face with her hands for a moment in embarrassment before looking up at me, “Have you ever heard of Trypophobia?”. It was the first time I’d heard of that one. I shook my head and immediately began to search it on my tablet. As soon as I saw it, I turned to her and said “So, that’s why you looked so pale on the Collector vessel.”. She leaned on the table and dug her fingers in her hair as she looked up at me with puppy dog eyes, “I _hate them_. It makes me feel physically ill. I just… I don’t even know _why_ it just does and it’s ridiculous.””

He chuckled again and shook his head, “She was so distraught but I decided to tease her regardless, “Too bad Cerberus couldn’t help you with that one, hm?” She promptly fixated me in a piercing unamused expression before admitting, “Yes… but no.””

He paused, gaze fixed on the recorder on the table, an adoring expression in his eyes, “It’s strange. Sometimes she could ignore it, and other times it was like someone had just electrocuted her and there was nothing she could do about her tiny panic reaction. Shepard was one of the toughest, most determined people I’d ever met and I obviously respected her immensely, but…”

He paused shaking his head, now finally looking up at me with a wistful expression, “It was those little things, those moments of weakness or when she’d be yelling mid-battle… Spirits… it was difficult to look away from her. She was so damn adorable.”

 

\--- ---

 

[2185, Sol System month of “August”; Normandy]

 

 

“Uhhh, Commander? Jack and Miranda are in the middle of a _disagreement_. Can you head it off somehow before they tear out a bulkhead?”

“Ugh…” she said exasperated, dropping her head slightly, “I’ll take care of it. Where are they?”

“Miranda’s room… Take pictures!” he said attempting to lighten her mood.

Kasumi materialized in front of Shepard and held up her camera with a dubious smile.

“Do _not_ let them see you.” Shepard said raising her eyebrows at the thief with a slightly amused grin.

With a huffed laugh, Kasumi shook her head, “Now, _really,_ Shepard.”

 

“Touch me and I will _smear the walls_ with you, bitch!” Jack snarled as the doors slid open and a chair flew across the room.

“Hey! Enough! Stand down, the both of you!” Shepard barked, walking closer to the two circling sharks in the room. “What the hell is the problem here?” she questioned, looking between them.

“The cheerleader won’t admit what Cerberus did to me was wrong!” Jack said stepping forward threateningly.

“It wasn’t Cerberus, not really, but clearly you were a mistake.” Miranda’s voice dripped venom as she also took a step closer to Jack.

Shepard attempted to say something, but Jack cut her off, “Screw you! You’ve got no idea what they put me through, but maybe I’ll finally get the chance to _show you_!” 

Staring at Miranda with a fiery gaze Shepard finally spoke, “First off, what happened to Jack was very _clearly_ Cerberus’s fault, even if it was a fractured facility…” she started before turning to look at Jack, “And two… our mission is way too important to let our personal emotions destroy the solidarity of this team. I don’t _care_ if you two don’t like each other. You’ll grow up, act like _big girls_ , keep yourselves focused, and get shit done.”

“Fuck your _feelings_. I just want her _dead_.” Jack spat in return.

Shepard nearly growled audibly, “I want the fucking _Collectors_ dead. You can kill each other _afterwards_ if we all survive that long. You both know what we’re up against. Save your anger for a fight that _actually matters_.”

Miranda, smooth and calm as always stepped toward Jack once more, “I can put aside my differences… until the mission’s over.”

Jack agreed with Shepard’s proposal, “Sure… I’ll do my part. Plus, I’d hate to see her die before I get a chance to filet her _myself_.” Fists clenched, she stormed out of the room leaving Shepard and Miranda alone in her office.

“You two going to be able to figure this out?” Shepard asked glaring at Jack as she left before looking to Miranda with a perturbed expression.

“It’s good you came by when you did.” Miranda said, inadvertently answering Shepard’s question. “I’m dedicated to this mission. As long as she does her job, we’ll be fine.” She paused a moment before concluding, “Thanks, Shepard.”

With a sigh, Shepard turned and left the room, thankful for the doors now separating her from either of those two women. When she shifted her gaze from the floor, she found Kasumi sitting on the edge of the mess hall table.

Ushering Shepard over with a wave of her hand, she whispered quietly, “I got some pretty great pictures.”

Shepard’s previously very annoyed expression shifted to one of amusement as she approached. When Kasumi handed the camera over, she leaned against Shepard's shoulder to try and get a good view of the screen.

With a gentle smile, Shepard scrolled through all the photos Kasumi had taken of the fight before handing the camera back and saying quietly, “Go show Joker. He’ll get a kick out of these.”

“Commander Shepard, you’re such an instigator.” Kasumi said with a wry grin before she hopped off the table and made her way promptly toward the elevator.

 

Bracing her hands on the table beneath her, Shepard dropped her chin to her chest and took a deep breath. Quietly to herself she recounted her master-list of tasks, “Oriana is safe, Miranda’s comfortable, Jack blew up the Cerberus facility, we left Jacob’s dad back on Aeia, the rest of the people aboard the Hugo Gernsback were rescued, we got the help Grunt needed, Mordin’s good now, Zaeed and I settled our disagreement with how he handled his long-time rivalry…”

She paused, looking up at the ceiling, “What’s left? Kasumi needs to find a grey box or something in a rich dude’s house. Hackett has a few things he needs me to address. I need to mine for additional resources and finish the ship upgrades.” She puffed out her cheeks, thinking, “I think that’s it… Nope! Shadow Broker… Liara.”

“Hhhoookay.” She said mid-sigh. “Back to Illium.”

 

\--- ---

 

[2185, Sol System month of “August”; Illium]

 

 

“Liara, the Observer is a female, but all of the people you asked me to investigate are male. Who gave you those leads?” Shepard asked, standing authoritatively in the middle of a thoroughfare with a tablet in her hand, re-reading the evidence.

“Nyxeris, she… _Nyxeris_ gave me those leads… Shepard, I’ll talk to you later.”

 

When Liara ended the call, Shepard turned to look at Garrus and Kasumi with her mouth pressed together and eyes wide in a typical ‘someone’s in trouble’ expression, “Well… I’m sure fun things are happening in Liara’s office right now. How about we make sure she’s doing alright?” 

“What happened?” Kasumi questioned.

“Nyxeris either _is_ the Observer or the next step to finding her. I imagine we’ll know the answer to that question by the time we make it up the stairs.”

 

 

...With the distinct lack of Nyxeris’s presence at the top of the stairs, Shepard nodded with recognition and re-entered Liara’s office.

“Thank you, Shepard. I wouldn’t have caught her without you.” Liara said as a greeting. “Nyxeris had some very valuable data hidden away. Now, I’m one step closer…”

“I’ve never seen you ready to execute someone in cold blood. What did the Shadow Broker do to you?” Shepard asked, leaning back in her chair.

Liara motioned with a hand conversationally but spoke with a very matter-of-fact tone, “I was on a job with a friend. The Shadow Broker’s agents caught us. My friend didn’t escape. Now, I don’t know if he’s dead or being interrogated, but I’m doing everything I can to find him. I owe him my life and I will make the Shadow Broker pay for what he’s done.”

Intrigued, Shepard leaned forward, clasping her hands, “What’s the next step in your hunt?”

“I gather information, peel away the layers of lies, and when I find the Shadow Broker? I hit him with a biotic field so strong that what’s left of his body will fit into a _coffee cup_.”

Everyone in the room took an impressed moment of silence to honor that threat. The last two years had been hard on the whole crew previously aboard the SSV, a lot of success for all of them had been mixed with or followed by incredible hardship, and clearly everyone had changed a bit after Shepard’s passing.

“There’s more to this story than you’re telling me, Liara.” Shepard deduced, “What _happened_ between you and the Shadow Broker?”

Liara’s face twisted in pain and she stood, looking away from Shepard, “Did Cerberus ever tell you how they recovered your body?”

When Shepard remained silent, Liara continued, “I gave it to them.”

Garrus’s eyes narrowed slightly as he gazed at Liara confused.

Liara’s voice caught slightly on her words as she turned around to face Shepard again, “I _gave you to them_ , Shepard, because they said they could bring you back…” she sounded like she might cry before she took a deep breath and continued in a more reserved tone, “but in order to do that… I had to take you from the Shadow Broker, who was going to _sell your corpse_ to the Collectors.”

Shepard’s next question was accompanied by a voice so gentle it almost sounded like Liara’s normal tone. If Garrus had been sitting in Shepard’s position that kind of gentle tone would likely be one of the _last_ ones he’d consider using.

“Why didn’t you tell me this earlier?”

Liara dropped inelegantly into her seat, her legs appearing to give out from under her, “Because I screwed up, Shepard. I barely escaped with my own life, and when I gave you to Cerberus, I told myself I was doing it for you… For a chance to bring you back, but I knew all along Cerberus would use you for their own agenda… and I let it happen, because I couldn’t let you go…” Liara cupped her hands over her mouth for a moment, her eyes squinted in sorrow, voice muffled from behind her hands, “Shepard, I am so sorry.”

“You did the right thing, Liara.” Shepard clarified, tilting her head and looking at Liara with wide understanding eyes, “This mission is important and I clearly couldn’t do it if you hadn’t risked your life to _get me back_ and chanced handing me over to Cerberus. I think it’s all turned out for the better, and now, I know I have _you_ to thank for that.”

Taking a deep breath and closing her eyes, Liara laid her hands back on her desk, unable to look at Shepard for a moment. When she regained her composure, she looked up again, tears glistening in her eyes, “Thank you, I… I was so afraid you’d hate me.”

Shepard grinned at her and shook her head, “Liara, I only _hate_ really big, mysterious, and often times disgusting looking creatures in the sky that exist solely to destroy the galaxy as we know it without ever giving us a good reason. Namely, Reapers and Praetorians.” She said attempting to make lighter of the conversation.

Liara did manage to huff out a laugh and wipe the corners of her eyes in reply before nodding, understanding Shepard’s intention, “All of these things are why I must destroy the Shadow Broker. For what he did to my friend, and to you, and for whatever he’s doing to help the Collectors.”

Confident Liara was back in a mental state capable of thinking clearly once again, Shepard pressed, “Is there anything you need from me?”

She shook her head and waved a hand casually in a dismissive gesture, “No. You’ve done enough. If I find anything useful, I’ll let you know. Even with Nyxeris down, it could be years before I track down the Shadow Broker… but some day he’ll slip up.”

“Shepard?” EDI’s voice cut in to the conversation, “While you’ve been analyzing evidence for Liara, I’ve been searching for leads on the Shadow Broker. I have information Dr. T’Soni may be interested in. Forwarding the data to your tablet.” 

Conveying what EDI had just told her, Shepard pulled out the collapsible tablet and handed it to Liara as it expanded.

“Shepard!” Liara exclaimed, “This contains leaked transmissions between Shadow Broker operatives… some hints a possible locations and… Feron. He’s still _alive_.”

“I’m guessing that was the friend you mentioned earlier… So, what’s the next step?” Shepard queried.

“I… I don’t know. I need to prepare, to think. I’m going home. Use my terminal if you need any local intel.” Liara said already preparing to walk out the door.

“You okay?” Shepard asked motioning toward her with an open hand.

“I’ve spent _two years_ plotting revenge… Now, I have the chance to make it a rescue.” Liara said seeming to process her own words as she said them.

“I’ll come by your place later to help.” Shepard said to reassure her.

Nodding, Liara thanked her, “Hopefully, I’ll have a plan by then.” 

When she left, Shepard immediately reached out to the Normandy, “EDI… Thank you.” 


	16. 16. August, Liara

 

_“Tela Vasir. Special Tactics and Recon.”_

_“A Spectre?” Shepard questioned, intrigued._

 

 

Liara emerged from amidst the rubble, gun aimed at Vasir, and a scowl on her face, “This is the woman who tried to kill me! I saw you, Vasir. I doubled back after I left and watched you break into my apartment…”

Shepard’s head tilted back slightly and she sighed aloud, “You have _got to_ be kidding me. Are any of you ever the good guys? Does ‘Spectre’ actually mean ‘Savage Traitorous Rebel’?” She asked motioning toward Vasir with her own pistol casually before bringing it up to properly ADS.

Liara continued speaking. “She used you to find where I’d gone. Once she had my location, she signaled the Shadow Broker’s forces. They bombed the building to take me out then she found Sekat, took his data, and killed him. I’m guessing she’s still got the disk on her.”

Vasir nodded in confirmation with a shrug. “Not that you’ll ever see what’s on it.” She began as the glass behind splintered and struggled to maintain any semblance of integrity in response to her biotics, “...you pureblood bitch!” she yelled before casting the lethal shards at the four of them.

Everyone dropped to their knees as Liara created a biotic barrier between them and the airborne fragments. As soon as the coast was clear Shepard launched herself from within the barrier and tackled Vasir through the rest of the broken window.

“Shepard!” Garrus called out as the other three ran to the edge of the window.

Clapping a hand on Garrus's shoulder, Liara called out to both of her remaining companions, “Come on! I’ll help you down!” 

Lowering Garrus and Kasumi to a safe distance above the ground cost Liara precious seconds in her own pursuit of Vasir, but having all members safely on the ground capable of pursuit would probably be worth it in the long run.

As Shepard and Vasir tumbled down a sloped section of architecture, Shepard kicked the asari away just before she fell a full story and landed squarely on her back. While she’d done her best to brace her head within her arms before impact, she would not be surprised if she'd still be rewarded with a concussion from this… Vasir, of course, floated down gracefully via her biotics, feet settling gently on the balcony like a falling leaf.

Liara wasn't far behind Vasir, despite alighting Garrus and Kasumi safely on Shepard's current level. The three of them watched as her glowing form leapt from the window above, setting herself down quickly before she took off sprinting, casting any Shadow Broker agents out of her way with the vengeance of an angry biotic goddess.

Unfortunately for Shepard, thanks to the sheer force of her inconvenient collision with the ground, the impact completely knocked the wind out of her. The weapons she’d also landed on were now probably imprinting their brand name on her spine. When her lungs began functioning properly again, Garrus held out a hand to haul her to her feet, supporting her weight momentarily as she caught her breath.

 

 

A very annoyed expression settled on Shepard’s face as she commented still panting slightly, “After talking with so many of these morons, you’d think I’d have been able to see right through her!” Shepard emphasized with a hand motion like an arrow.

The door across the courtyard prevented anyone from answering as the three of them scattered to find cover. “You know…” Shepard began, taking a shot with her ridiculously OP rifle. “You start to wonder whether it’s the quantity or quality that really matters in these fights.” She philosophized.

Garrus and Kasumi gave her strange glances, not quite sure where she was going with this.

Pulling out her pistol, she took several shots as she ran to a place of cover closer to where they emerged, “I mean really!” she called out to make sure the other two could hear her, “It’s always _three_ of us against like two hundred of them.” She shouted, taking another shot with her rifle and finishing off the last agent in the courtyard. Standing up to face her comrades for a moment she motioned with her free hand for them to follow her as they continued down the hallways, “Are we really that good, or is everyone else just _that bad_?”

“Both!” Kasumi offered with enthusiasm as they once again took cover and returned fire.

Garrus joined in on the exuberant sarcasm, “Why are the Shadow Broker agents the only enemies we’ve ever encountered with stun grenades… and why do they have _so many of them_?” He asked with an annoyed tone as he stood, squinting profusely, and fired, splitting an agent’s skull in two.

“When you can’t beat three people with overwhelming fire power,” Kasumi began as she cloaked, “simply blind them completely first.” She added reappearing behind one and stabbing him clean through the lung with her omnitool, “That ought to do it!”

After finishing off the opposing forces, they once more emerged outdoors, this time on a large piazza overlooking a parking lot. Liara and Vasir were trading missed shots as they remained ducked behind the cars present. As Vasir caught sight of Shepard and her team, she summoned her own ride via omni-tool.

“She’s chosen a very distinct, custom painted gold-colored vehicle. How convenient.” Kasumi quipped.

Liara opened the door on a vehicle and climbed in shot-gun as Shepard stepped into the driver’s seat. As Garrus climbed in one of the backseats, Kasumi remained outside, grinning and wiggling her fingers on one hand as she shut the hood of the car over the three within before cloaking. A moment later the sound of a body leaping onto the exterior surface of the car could be heard. Undoubtedly Kasumi had some kind of strong mass effect powered suction cups or some shit in her gloves and boots…

As they took off and Liara ushered Shepard to hurry in her pursuit, she decided to have some fun. Turning around to glance at Garrus, she asked, “Hey, you got any good car-chase music?”

“SHEPARD!” Liara called out in a stiff limbed panic as Shepard turned her head back around and maneuvered the car through oncoming traffic.

“Yeah, sure.” Garrus said with a grin, syncing his omnitool to the stereo of the taxi.

“You’re enjoying this?!” Liara called out, startled at the casual behavior of her two in-vehicle companions. “We are chasing a fugitive with vital information, in a taxi, into very dangerous areas, with an invisible woman on our roof!”

“Yup.” Shepard said with a grin, “Just be thankful that shiny car she’s got doesn’t seem to have any other actually useful upgrades. All I have to do is take corners just a little too sharp and we’ll catch her-“

“-You will do no such thing!” Liara said clawing the edges of her seat as Shepard took a near 90˚ turn in a construction zone.

“Sorry, Liara, this music you know. It gives you so much confidence when navigating haphazardly placed proximity mines and potential high speed head-on collisions.” Shepard replied nodding to the beat of the music. “Good choice, Garrus.”

“Thanks.” He said leaning forward, sticking his head in between the front seats for a moment before reaching up and lightly tapping the glass roof to check on Kasumi. Amidst all the noise they heard sharp little clacks of acknowledgement from the cloaked thief-turned-documentary-woman on the roof.

When they finally caught up to Vasir’s car, they flew side by side for a few moments, and Kasumi uncloaked, seizing the opportunity to leap onto the gold vehicle, sticking to its surface with deceptive ease. Withdrawing her camera from its protective pocket Kasumi snapped a picture of Vasir’s alarmed expression below her through the glass before turning to wave at Shepard with an overly exuberant smile like a stunt artist in a show. Climbing all over the roof of Vasir’s car during the collisions, Kasumi snapped picture after picture. Her personal favorite at the moment was a very shaky shot she’d captured of Vasir’s distracted and confused expression when Kasumi first appeared on top of her car.

As Shepard struck the side of her car into Vasir’s one last time, Kasumi leapt back to Shepard’s car with ease as all four of them watched the gold clad vehicle descend toward the outer patio of a rich hotel building like a Christmas beetle suffering the repercussions of slamming its skull into an artificial light source repeatedly.

When the taxi Shepard was driving came to a halt on the small parking area and the hood lifted, Garrus turned the volume on the music to an almost obnoxious level. Conveniently, the beat and the incoming mercs dropped on cue and Shepard and Garrus exchanged enthusiastic nods in time with the beat as Liara attempted to shout above the music that they were dropping in reinforcements to slow them down.

“You don’t say!” Shepard yelled above the music as both she and Garrus continued to have way too much fun with this very serious matter, but they were stuck here until the job was done anyway, may as well try and enjoy it. More often than not, if Liara had been paying attention, she’d notice very rhythmic firing and reloading of the two sniper rifles in her companion’s hands.

When the mercs were dead Garrus suddenly cut the music and the three of them were left with nothing but their own movements and the crackle of fires to listen to, “My other aesthetic.” Garrus quipped.  

Upon moving through the hotel, Shepard asked with a confused expression, completely ignoring the frightened people cowering on the floor, “What kind of hotel is this?”

“Azure. It's a luxury hotel with an… _exotic_ edge. "Azure" is slang for a part on the asari body in some areas here on Illium.” Liara clarified.

“Where?” Shepard asked tilting her head with an amused smirk.

“Mainly the lower reaches, near the bottom.”

“No, I meant, "Where on the asari body?"” Shepard asked again with a jokingly forced sexy tone of voice.

With a hint of amusement and annoyance, Liara said quietly, “So did I…”

 

\---

 

“Vasir!” Liara called out with authority, “It’s over!”

Somehow the people on the deck were previously completely oblivious to Vasir’s limping, bleeding, armor clad form amongst the rest of their high-society garb.

Turning around, Vasir limped over to a woman gawking nearby, immediately holding her hostage and asking her to say her name aloud. Making real threats with the victim’s name made the situation far more tangible to all members present, especially the victim and the supposed rescuers.

Shepard attempted to reassure the woman, “We’ll get you out of here safely, Mariana.”

Of course now Mariana also mentioned she had a son. Vasir reveled in this information, saying how badly she hoped Mariana would be able to see her son again soon, “I’ve heard losing a parent is just horrific for a child. Scars them for life.”

The threats and chases were really getting to Liara and she said in as harsh a voice she could manage, which still sounded pretty calming, “I’m going to end you, Vasir.”

“Don’t worry, Liara.” Shepard attempted to reassure her, “We’ll handle it the usual way.” As if she’d been in this situation several times before.

With a purr in her voice, Vasir questioned, “You want Mariana's little boy to grow up without a mommy, Shepard? Thermal clips on the ground, now. Power cells too.”

As long as Vasir was role playing, Shepard could too. She huffed an unimpressed laugh, “Is that it?”

Clearly confused at Shepard’s nonchalant response, she merely questioned, “What?”

“Vasir, I sacrificed hundreds of lives, including the Destiny Ascension, in order to destroy Sovereign in its attack on the Citadel. I unleashed the _rachni_ on the galaxy. I openly support the economic and political growth of the krogan colonies. So for your sake, I hope your escape plan doesn't hinge on me hesitating to shoot a damn hostage!”

“You're bluffing…” She said holding Mariana close and pointing the gun now at Shepard.

Liara took the opportunity to raise a table via biotics behind Mariana’s captor before turning the flat surface of the table toward Vasir and slamming it toward her, causing her to drop the young mother as she flew into a fountain.

Shepard motioned for Garrus to stay close as Shepard stepped protectively in front of Mariana as the woman huddled on the ground. Garrus offered her a hand, bringing her to her feet, shielding her with his body, and ushered her away from the party-turned-battle-arena.

A moment later Garrus returned and helped Liara and Shepard fire upon Vasir, “She re-sets her barrier, Shepard!” Garrus called out.

“Well good thing we know how to handle that problem!” She called out firing her missile launcher.

It didn’t take long until the asari staggered back in defeat, blood dripping profusely from her body.

Liara calmly approached, took Sekat’s data chip from her pocket and walked away, decrypting it with her omnitool, “This has what we need to find the Shadow Broker.” She said walking away from Vasir’s wheezing form.

“You’re dead!” she hissed, “The Shadow Broker has been in power for decades! He’s stronger than anything you’ve ever faced.”

“Is that why you sold out the Council to work for him?” Shepard asked, attempting to discover her motivations in her last moments of life.

“You think I betrayed the Council? Like Saren?” She asked as if surprised and Shepard nodded.

Pursing her lips in a satirical manner, she simply replied, “Yes.”

Vasir spat in return, “Go to hell! The Broker's given me damn good intel over the years. Intel that saved lives and kept the Citadel safe! So if the Broker needs a few people to disappear. I'll pay that price without hesitation!”

Shepard waved a hand in aggravation, “Spectres don't blow up buildings _filled_ with _innocent people_!”

“Sure we do,” She justified, "We get our hands dirty so the Council doesn't have to. The councilors might complain about our methods to soothe their consciences, but they never look too closely. Besides, you're with _Cerberus_... Like you have no idea what your terrorist friends have done? You wanna judge me? _Look in the mirror_. Kidnapping kids for biotic death camps? Killing Alliance admirals who ask questions? And you're one of them.” The blood loss was increasingly making her appear dizzy and despondent. “Don't you dare judge me...” She said before feinting.

Turning away from the asari’s body Shepard sighed, the pleasant temperament she’d had earlier now severely diminished, “Man… it’s crazy how sometimes it only takes _one psychopath_ to ruin your good mood.”


	17. 17. Shadow Broker

-

 

“You electrocuted me at least _four_ times, Shepard.” Garrus commented, equally entertained and aggravated, as they finally entered the Shadow Broker’s base.

“ _If I’d wanted to more than take your shields down, I’d have done it_.” She said staring up at him sidelong, eyebrows raised, letting the smartass expression on her face linger.

“You _were_ standing really close to the rods, Garrus.” Liara offered quietly, her vision trained straight ahead looking for additional threats.

 

Alarm momentarily gripped the nape of Garrus's neck as he, Shepard, and Liara startled in response to Kasumi’s form appearing out of thin air, “I got pictures!” She said with a smirk at Garrus. 

Grinning, amused, and glad Kasumi was still along for the ride, Shepard turned to Liara and commented, “You’re lucky that little gadget of yours worked, Liara…”

“It didn’t.” Kasumi said with a chipper tone of voice as she sat atop the railing beside the walkway.

Shepard and Garrus exchanged an apprehensive glance with one another, turned their heads to look at Liara, and then back at Kasumi.

“It gave me a really good head start though! The shunt was very effective, but you needed someone who knew what they were doing to monitor its progress. While you three were occupied, I was able to execute the program again after each run time. Whomever made this apparently didn’t feel like adding a loop to the process… I’m sure after everyone was dead, or you three were running out of ammo you’d have figured it out. Just glad I could tag along and make everyone’s lives a bit easier.”

She said tossing a little device in her hand with a sly grin, “Liara,” she started, “I made a copy of the program while it was running... Mind if I keep it?”

With a stern mother-like expression, Liara crossed her arms, “As long as you give me a back-up. I paid a lot of credits for that program.”

“You’ve got a deal.” Kasumi said with a grin before hopping off the banister and disappearing.

The three still visible members of the party brought their weapons up again and crept down the hallway.

“You’d think they would have ambushed us by now.” Garrus whispered.

“How many do you think are actually _in_ this ship?” Shepard asked to either Liara or Garrus, but neither had the chance to answer.

 

_'dink'_

 

“ _Cover!_ ” Shepard commanded as the three leapt towards the small areas of shelter within the narrow corridor in response to the sound of a fired missile.

Following several blasts from Shepard’s and Garrus’s rifles and a smattering of pistol shots... suddenly the only merc left standing was the poor bastard holding tightly to his missile launcher.

Shepard whispered, “Got a present for ya…” As she trained her rifle’s scope on his skull and fired. When the body fell, she braced the butt of her rifle on her hip, finger off the trigger, and grinned, “Garrus, I got you that missile launcher you’ve always wanted.” She said motioning across the room with a grin before they all advanced toward the doorway together.

“Aw, Commander… You really think of everything.” He started with an amused tone, “The first present I’ve gotten in years and I get to pry it out of a dead merc’s hands. A dream come true.” A sardonic-amused grunt emitted from his throat as he knelt down to pilfer the weapon.

With an all-knowing expression in her eyes, she grinned, “I know, I’m romantic as hell.”

He hefted the hunk of metal in both hands and looked up at her with a smirk in his tone, “Was that your _goal,_ Shepard?”

Liara had already passed through the doorway into the next corridor, and before Shepard could embarrass herself, or the blush showed on her cheeks, Liara called out, “Feron! Shepard, he’s still alive!”

Garrus’s eyes flicked to the doorway, silently cursing the interruption, but this really was not an appropriate time to try and suss out Shepard’s romantic interests. Standing, and swinging the missile launcher over his back, attaching it to a free slot, he and Shepard approached Liara as she attempted to free Feron from whatever he was stuck in. A barely audible protest from Feron could be heard just before Liara yelped, reeling away from the console, hands up in surrender. Whatever she’d tried to do sent bolts of electricity coursing through Feron’s vulnerable body.

 

The lightning that surged through the room around him was likely transferred directly from the storms on the exterior of the ship. There was absolutely no way Feron would be surviving a direct shock from lighting several times per day, let alone over the course of _two years_. Garrus’s naturally analytical brain scrutinized the situation while Shepard and Liara spoke with the drell.

Feron’s body had risen from the chair, his muscles paralyzed by the current, but when it ended, with a moment of recovery he retained the ability to breathe.

Garrus’s gaze momentarily rested on the omni-locks holding Feron in place. Besides the restrictions, the chair appeared to be mostly comprised of metal. In order for Feron to chance surviving _any_ electrical shock in an environment where he couldn’t move and was constantly in contact with metal, it needed to be less than 70 mA. Although, that was pretty true regardless of the circumstances.

At ten or greater the body succumbed to muscular paralysis, intense pain, and labored breathing. Much greater than thirty and Feron would succumb to complete respiratory paralysis, and, if he survived long enough, acute hypoxemia. Any higher than 70 would basically guarantee ventricular fibrillation. Upon onset of VFib, the natural rhythm of his heart would beat so quickly, the heart would no longer be capable of delivering adequate amounts of blood to the rest of his body, and likely leading to cardiac arrest. Based then on his initial analyses, Garrus’s best guess for Faron’s exposure to the current was anywhere between 10 and 30 mA.

 

Liara’s voice floated through Garrus’s thoughts, “It's a neural grounding rod. The medical equipment is to make sure he doesn't... expire.”

 

Regardless of being hooked up to medical equipment, after _two years_ of electrical torture, even at 10 mA… the impact would likely lead to severe damage to both the central and peripheral nervous system, and pretty dramatic degradation of brain tissue.

Accounting for the current that passed into his body primarily via the clamps on his wrists and ankles, if Feron was even able to walk after they shut off the power grid, Garrus was going to be very surprised. Most likely, Feron’s body was currently a painted canvas of bruises and burst blood vessels… and his _insides?_ If he had to guess, the drell’s organs, at this point, were a mass of lesions accompanying the pain from breathing, eating, speaking, thinking… most likely everything was extremely painful. Unless, of course, his brain was no longer capable of recognizing minimal to average levels of pain.

From what he _could see_ , however, Garrus was astonished he couldn’t detect signs of severe atrophy in the drell’s musculature from malnourishment, dehydration, and stagnation. Either someone fed him daily, or he was released for several hours a day to eat and drink before resuming the torture. He had a hunch the second option wasn’t provided.

If the circumstances were different, namely not being on a highly isolated ship in the middle of nowhere, Garrus might have interpreted this to be a set up for Liara, a betrayal once again by Feron working with the Shadow Broker. Feron looked too healthy to be in the position he was currently; however, Garrus couldn’t identify any likely scenarios in which this being a rouse would be beneficial to anyone. Maybe the scales covering drell bodies helped to hide internal injuries and preserve a more youthful and alert visage regardless of the circumstance. Additionally, with what he’d heard from Liara, she and Feron didn’t know each other _really well_ , but it might be worth warning her of potential personality changes as a result of electricity coursing through Feron’s brain so frequently… Maybe later, when everyone was safe.

 

\---

 

[2185, Sol System month of “August”; Lair of the Shadow Broker]

 

Eerie silence filled the space before them like a smoke cloud.

All three companions kept their weapons trained on the head of the seated figure before them, while the Shadow Broker himself pulled the ultimate power move… indifferent  _silence_.

He merely leaned forward in his seat, braced his forearms on the desk, and clasped his hands. All six eyes observed the soldiers ahead of him before speaking through a mouth that could probably eat a wolf-dog whole.

Like any good villain, the Shadow Broker had an awesome voice, captured the creepy-as-hell vibe with finesse... and started his conversation off with a dumbass rhetorical question, “Here for the drell?... Reckless, even for you, Commander.”

She scowled at the creature behind the desk, “Reckless? I like to think of it as _determined_ … You can ask your asari Spectre about the difference between the two.” She emphasized with a casual wave of her gun.

 

The conversation that ensued between the Shadow Broker, Shepard, and Liara was uninformative and full of empty posturing.

 

“Enough talk.” The Shadow Broker began again, “My operations are too crucial to be compromised by a traitor.”

With cautious amusement, Liara quipped, “You’re quite confident for someone with nowhere left to hide.”

The creature turned its massive head to look at her a bit more squarely, the slow motion clearly conveying superiority and annoyance. After a brief pause, he turned his head away from her to stare directly at Garrus, “You travel with fascinating companions, doctor." He commented to Liara without turning to acknowledge her again, "Thank you for bringing me Archangel. His bounty has not yet been claimed.”

Originally, when the other three had been engaged in general conversation, he’d felt rather comfortable, ready to address whatever was to come. Most of the time peoples’ attentions were on Shepard, but when the Shadow Broker scrutinized him, valuing the price on his head, his jaw flexed in aggravation, and he stared down the multi-eyed creature with a more personal kind of animosity.

“You’re not putting a hand on anyone.” Liara said squinting in enmity at the broker.

He spoke slowly again, attempting to discourage the two very determined and strategically-violent women in the room to back down, “It’s pointless to challenge me, asari. I know your every secret, while you fumble in the dark.”

 

And failing...

 

Garrus kept his vision ADS on the Shadow Broker's massive head while Liara challenged him like a patient queen, her words laced with amusement, “Is that right?" 

She allowed an honorary moment of silence before proceeding to spit his words back in his face, " _You’re_ a yahg. A pre-spaceflight species quarantined to their homeworld for massacring the Council’s first contact teams. This base is older than your planet’s discovery, which probably means you killed the original Shadow Broker sixty years ago, then took over.”

The webbed ear-like projections from behind the yahg’s massive horns twitched in aggravation as she continued, “I’m guessing, you were taken from your homeworld by a trophy hunter who wanted a slave… or a _pet_. _How am I doing?_ ”

While seated, the yahg’s hulking mass had already been rather intimidating; however, as he stood, all three of them stepped back, looking up at the massive creature [2.4 m / 7.8 ft] as its tripartite mouth appeared to unzip and bellow with unadulterated fury.

One smack from its fist completely decimated the desk it had been sitting behind, and with barely a heft, the large structure flew across the room before slamming straight into Garrus and knocking him unconscious.

“Garrus!” Shepard cried out as she bent down, lifted one of his arms over her shoulders, leaned back, and attempted to drag him into the cover of the broken desk, “My god! Why are you so heavy??” She asked as she strained to acquire momentum.

The Shadow Broker’s attention was fixated on Liara, giving Shepard the precious seconds she needed to keep her other teammate safe while he recovered. As with most blunt-trauma head injuries, he regained consciousness rather quickly, but was clearly disoriented.

 

 

_I’m not… in my bed… This isn’t the Normandy._

 

 

Kneeling over him, and bracing a hand on his right arm, Shepard barked, “Garrus, _stay down_.”

 

 

_I’m on a floor… why am I on the floor?_

 

His senses seemed to be rebooting one at a time. He could feel Shepard’s hand on his arm for a moment before it withdrew.

If she’d just said something, he had no idea what it was thanks to the sound of rushing water, or static, or some twisted combination of the two that assaulted his ears. In response to the audible hissing, he winced, and opened his eyes only to struggle finding something definitive to look at. Sitting up much too quickly and bracing his forearms on his thighs, he hung his head to gaze initially at the ground before him. It felt like some kind of heavy fluid was building pressure in the front of his face, and his eyes felt strained like he’d stared straight into a unnecessarily bright lamp. His brain was struggling to reorient his sense of equilibrium, and a vague sense of nausea clung to his throat.

The furious bellow of a yahg filled in the last pieces of the puzzle as his brain finally remembered where he was, but he was in no condition to help. If Shepard could take out a Praetorian, this guy’s minutes were numbered.

While the ringing in his ears died down, he heard the distinct sound of hand-to-hand combat and he squinted confused, “Are you _punching_ him, Shepard?” He whispered aloud to himself as he raised his head to try and see over the demolished desk.

His question was answered by watching her tiny fist slam straight into one of his eye sockets. Wincing, he made a disgusted sound before the yahg charged her. The Shadow Broker's huge form making it easy for Shepard to dive right under, rolling out of the way.

“Now, Liara!” Shepard called out still firing at the Shadow Broker as the glass ceiling overhead containing the coursing lightning above shattered and a column of Liara’s biotic and electrical energy effectively disintegrated the yahg below. 

Garrus dipped his head, looking away from the bright light, and closing his eyes until it passed. 

Shepard clapped Liara on the shoulder as a brief congratulations on her victory before turning away and reproaching Garrus. As she did so, Liara shut down the main power, and he half expected the commander to stumble in the dark and land on him, but she'd stood still, waiting until the power came back on. He looked up at her as she approached and offered a hand to help him stand up. He clasped her forearm, as she leaned back, and slowly brought him to his feet. Rising to his full height, he winced and lifted his head slightly, attempting to think straight through the pounding pain.

“Go see Dr. Chakwas.” She ordered quietly, looking up at him with a scrutinizing gaze.

“I will when we leave.” He said gently returning his gaze to her and taking a deep breath, “Was I out long?”

She shook her head, “About normal, couple of seconds.”

A comm transmission interrupted their casual conversation, “Shadow Broker, this is operative Murat. We had a momentary connection failure. Can you confirm status? - Operative Shora requesting update. Are we still online? - Shadow Broker, I've lost our feed. We are online and awaiting instructions.” A cacophony of voices filled the room, waveforms all bouncing in tumultuous rhythms on the hologram board before them. 

Garrus and Shepard watched Liara slowly approach the screen. When she reached out Kasumi uncloaked, kneeled on the ground, and snapped a picture of Liara as she braced her hands authoritatively on the desk.

With a deep breath, Liara steeled herself to take responsibility for the operation she’d just semi-unintentionally inherited, “This is the Shadow Broker. The situation is under control. We experienced a power fluctuation while upgrading hardware. It disrupted communications momentarily; however, we are now back online. Resume standard procedures. I want a status report on all operations within the next solar day. Shadow Broker, out.”

The door behind them slid open and Feron half-limped, half-ran, as he aimed a gun towards Liara’s head. Shepard stepped forward, but Feron didn’t pull the trigger, his expression one of obvious confusion.

Willing to clarify, Liara stated the reason for her decision to the group present.

Shepard turned and looked up at Garrus, nodding slightly to her left. Understanding, he nodded in return, making his way toward Feron to accompany him out of the room. When the doors slid closed behind them and only the two of them remained, Liara finally broke down in tears. Momentarily hiding her face in her hands, she turned around, and slid down against the wall to a seated position.

Bracing her forearms on her knees, she tilted her face to the ceiling as Shepard sat down silently beside her.

“It’s over. It’s finally… for _two years_.” She said leaning her head back against the barrier behind her.

Reaching over, Shepard took Liara’s hand in her own, and squeezed it in support, “You did it, Liara.” She said grinning at the asari beside her.

Liara turned to face her somewhat, and wrapped her arms around Shepard’s neck. In return, the commander wrapped one arm around her torso, and supported them from falling over with the other.

Whispering, Shepard repeated in reassurance, “You did it, Liara. I’m so proud of you.”

Liara whispered a thank you in return before calming her breathing and releasing Shepard from her grasp. Wiping under her eyes and shaking her head in disbelief, she stood again.

Rising to join her, Shepard leaned against the massive station behind her, bracing her hands on the edge.

Looking Shepard squarely in the eyes, Liara said with a somewhat distant tone, “I spent two years mourning you and Feron... And now I've got both of you back. I...” She took a calming breath and looked away from the commander, letting her gaze wander to the mass of screens beside her, “Let's see what we've got.”

As she leaned against the console she huffed a laugh, “No safeguards or user restrictions... It's like he never anticipated _anyone_ but himself being here... and it's all ours.”

Moments later she turned around to face the commander again and motioned glibly back towards the screen, “All I wanted was to rescue Feron, but is it wrong that a part of me wants this? With the Shadow Broker's network I can help you. Maybe, I can turn this operation into something better!”

Shepard huffed a laugh and looked down at the floor for a moment, “The galaxy needs people like you in positions like these. You’ll have to make really tough decisions, but I think you’re cut out for it, and what could you possibly enjoy more than having tech-based archaeology of every race, every powerful influencer, and every government at your fingertips?”

Liara grinned broadly in acceptance, “Come back again soon and hopefully I’ll have some information for you.”

“I will, but Liara... don't be a stranger this time.” Shepard said with a wry grin as she turned to walk out.

 

\---

 

[2185, Sol System month of “August”; Normandy SR-2]

 

 

Garrus’s periphery recognized Shepard’s form enter the med bay as Dr. Chakwas shined a torch in each eye to ensure his pupils would properly dilate.

Coming to a halt by his side, Shepard crossed her arms, “I imagine you’ve got a pretty stout headache and a good ol’ concussion.”

“Well, thankfully he’s avoided an uncal herniation.” Dr. Chakwas started, answering Shepard’s question first before continuing to speak with Garrus, “Although, we’ll be keeping an eye on you to watch for other potential symptoms. More than likely you’re fine.”

She said straightening up and sticking the pen-light in her pocket, “I believe your chest took a decent portion of the impact, but I won’t be surprised if you have strange mood swings throughout the day, have to put up with a splitting headache, and feel slightly more irritable.”

“Commander Shepard, please keep an eye on him. I’ve told him to take two anti-inflammatory tablets every six hours until tomorrow at this time.” She requested with a quirk of a grin at Garrus’s unreadable expression as he stood to leave.

Shepard huffed a laugh, “I’m pretty sure he doesn’t need me to keep track of that for him.”

Dr. Chakwas sat down at her desk, “You’re the only one who walks all the way to the Main Battery room to talk to him, so you may as well make sure while you’re there.” She said, already looking at something else on her computer screen.

Shepard looked up at Garrus and shook her head with a ‘not gonna happen’ expression.

In appreciation, as they turned to leave, Garrus lightly tapped Shepard’s lower back with his hand in a fond ‘thanks’ gesture.

Exchanging one more kind grin, wordlessly, the two went their separate ways.


	18. 18. September, Garrus

[2185, Sol System month of “September”; Normandy SR-2]

 

 

“You said you had something for me?” Garrus asked the screen before him.

The voice of a female of either human or asari race flowed through the speakers, there was no alternate cadence in the voice to suggest one of the other races, “I said I _might_ have something for you… Looked into some of those leads you gave me and wound up with two decent options, but I’ve got a hunch about one guy in particular and you’ll probably agree. Name’s _Fade_ …” she huffed a laugh, “A cheesy-ass name for someone who specializes in getting people off the grid, but easy to remember.”

Leaning forward on the console before him, he pressed, “What makes you so sure about this Fade guy?”

“I hope you don’t mind I got a bit of help on this one, but a trustworthy friend of mine was able to get me video feed of your turian friend meeting with one of Fade’s known intermediaries. I just transferred it to you for confirmation… But get this… I have info that strongly suggests this guy’s ex-C-Sec…” she said with a brief pause as light taps could be heard on her tablet where she was scrolling through her notes, “C-Sec’s been trying to track this bastard down for years, but somehow he always slips through their fingers. Got a pretty damn good hunch, and some potential evidence, he has access to their databases or comms. So, he’s got a leg-up on the other refugee smugglers on the Citadel.” She paused briefly before adding another detail, “Also, you should know… Fade’s got ties with the Blue Suns-“

“-The Blue Suns?” Garrus nearly growled, “Why?”

“Seems mostly like protection, but I think somehow it goes both ways. Hence my initial investigation to whether or not he’s got access to C-Sec comms and records.” She began, “Anyway, he _always_ uses a go-between before customers ever meet with him in person for varying reasons, and they switch out pretty regularly. I also managed to get a hold of a fake ID Fade had crafted for one of his clients. I have to say, it’s top knotch.” She paused for a moment before continuing, “I doubt he works alone, and _he_ might still be a go-between to find the root of this, but it’s better than nothing.”

Garrus hurriedly typed her observations down in his notes as he said with a rushed tone, “Elyra, I owe you.”

“Nah, I’m pretty sure I was repaying _you_ … Oh, one more thing.” She said before ending the call. “I set you up with a meeting.”

His mind suddenly went blank with momentary panic as he attempted to figure out how he might possibly make an already established meeting time with possibly his only lead. This was going to put a lot of pressure on Shepard too, “When is it?” He asked hurriedly.

“Tomorrow, 07:00. Neon Markets on Zakera Ward. Obviously, don’t be late. Take care, officer. I gotta go.” She said with a matter-of-fact tone before ending the call. 

A million thoughts and emotions flew through his mind and his eyes stared intensely at the screen before him. Thankfully, he didn’t have to wait long until he heard Shepard’s footsteps on the metal walkway outside his door.

Turning around as soon as the doors slid open, he motioned to her with an open palm, “Shepard. I’m glad you came by. I’ve got something important, and I need your help.”

The expression on her face looked equally surprised and delighted, “You found something on Sidonis?” she prompted.

“Yes.” He said pacing a few steps away from the console within the small room as he continued, “There’s a specialist on the Citadel, name’s Fade. He’s an expert at helping people disappear. Sidonis was recently seen with one of his people.”

While clearly supportive, she was understandably skeptical, “I’m assuming you’ve got more to go on than that?”

He shook his head reluctantly, before grabbing the front ridge of his armor casually, and looking down at her, “Not enough to confirm he’s _exactly_ who we need to look into, but it’s the best lead I’ve got.”

“Alright.” She said nodding, “Where do we find this, _Fade_?”

He took a deep breath and sighed, “A contact of mine set up a meeting at 07:00 tomorrow. We’ll meet one of his men in a warehouse near the Neon Markets, down on Zakera Ward.”

“Good.” Shepard said, surprisingly pleased at this interruption of her own objectives. “Let’s make sure we’re there then.”

He relaxed visibly, dropping his arms, and nodding as he spoke softly, “Thanks, Shepard. I appreciate you taking the time to help me.”

“Of course.” She said with a sympathetic expression. Before leaving, she paused, looking at him with a somewhat apprehensive expression, “When we find Sidonis-”

Reading her hesitation and knowing her typical preference for exemplar actions, he interrupted. His mind too anxious to be polite at the moment, “-I’m not letting him walk away, Shepard.” His voice deep and authoritative, eyes briefly glaring at her to show it wasn’t an arguable point.

She paused, emphasizing she wanted him to listen to her, and he realized his mistake, “Garrus, you’ve told me the full story, you’ve presented the evidence, and the position you were in when I found you was proof enough of his actions…” She paused and walked to his side, leaning against the console as he stood adjacent, now respectfully listening, “You asked me a while ago if I remembered Dr. Saleon… but do _you_ remember what _I_ said?” she asked.

He remained silent so she attempted to recall the conversation, “You mentioned when Saleon first escaped he was holding his employees as hostages. You wanted to pursue, but the Council was too worried about the lives of the hostages to attempt disabling the ship. Like you said, all of them would die anyway as test subjects or wish they had died by the time he relocated.” She paused momentarily, “In a _heartbeat_ , I agreed with you. Letting Dr. Saleon continue his work elsewhere was more harmful than _potentially_ expediting the deaths of the people onboard.”

She shook her head and looked at the floor for a moment, “Dr. Saleon made people suffer, innocent people... for _credits_.”

Shifting her gaze back to his own, she continued with a deeper tone, clearly perturbed, “ _Sidonis_ did the same thing… Attacked and betrayed his _own crew_ who died slow and painful deaths for _credit gain_ , and this time it impacted one of _my crew_ personally… The law won’t prove his guilt.” She hissed waiving a dismissive hand, “He’d walk free if we turned him in… just like our discussion about killing _Saren_ at the first given opportunity.”

She walked toward him, lifting her chin, and standing so close, if he’d been her height, she would have been threateningly nose-to-nose. With a dangerous snarl, she growled, “So, _when_ we find him… there’s no way in hell he’s leaving _alive_.”

His heart was pounding in his throat as he listened.

 

 

_Spirits_ … _forgive me, but that was…… **fuck** …_

 

 

The invasive thought delayed his response to her as his gaze fixated on the fire within her own. Her lust for justice mirroring his own with an electric spark he’d never quite seen in her with this clarity before. Unable to look away from her, he noticed her pupils were dilated as she stared up at him. All his years as a detective and all the hours he’d spent interrogating subjects, had given him the skill of noticing those small details…

Momentarily unable to subdue his racing thoughts, he wondered if humans could voluntarily regulate their irises the way turians could… and if the action suggested the same things…

When he next tried to speak, his voice started as a whisper, “Thank you, Shepard. I- thank you.”

She stared at him in silence, unmoving, her brow furrowed, and gaze searching his scarred and burned face as if she had something else she wanted to say. Her gaze softened as she apparently gave up on voicing her thoughts. Clenching her jaw slightly, she stepped back, her composure clearing the few remnants of rage from her visage, and nodded to him with a serious expression.

“Of course.” She responded quietly before slowly turning away.

 

 

The doors slid shut behind her and he remained where he stood, gazing at where she had been in the doorway. He shook his head, frustrated at his own mind, as a slow calming sigh escaped his mouth.

“What is your problem?” He grumbled aloud to himself.

Shepard was his friend, yes, but also his commanding officer, and here he’d gazed at her, genuinely _attracted_ to her tenacity, logic, passion and… everything else in general. The number of times he’d interacted with strong-headed women was probably more than any man normally survived, but of all of them… he respected _Shepard_ the most. That respect, accompanied by her rank, commanded an honorable **_dis_** interest in her romantically.

At least, it was _supposed to_.

Maybe it was an idea Kasumi and Tali had planted in his head… plus the whole _inter-species_ thing would probably never appeal to her anyway.

“…Ridiculous.” He said attempting to dismiss his thoughts regarding the topic.

 

 

An hour or so later the lights overhead dimmed, notifying him it was time to rest. Blinking, a bit surprised, he looked around the darkened room to see he was seated on his cot, legs crossed, tablet in hand, reading articles about pupil dilation in humans. How long had he been reading about human physiology? When was it he’d abandoned the console to pull his cot out and begin reading on his tablet instead… _completely_ abandoning any semblance of ship-related productivity.

A disbelieving laugh escaped his nose, “Damn it…” he started, leaning his head back and gazing at the ceiling, “You can’t let it go, can you?” He asked his mind, exasperated.

 

\---

 

Garrus inhaled sharply as he felt a weight on his chest. The gesture wasn’t threatening, if anything it was gentle. A smile crept into his eyes as he opened them, rewarded with Shepard’s own bright gaze back at him.

She was leaning on his chest, resting her chin on the back of her hand, “Good morning.” She said calmly.

He lifted a hand, cupping the side of her face in his palm with adoration, “Did you sleep well?” he asked, running his fingers through her hair before letting them rest against the side of her arm.

Tilting her head, she shrugged in response with a grin, “Not too bad, considering.”

Curious what she meant, he turned his head slightly to look around. They were… in a gym, laying on a sparring mat. The lights were off, and not a soul was in there. Pondering his surroundings, he looked back at her, noticing now the wall behind her reminded him of his childhood home and a sense of peace washed over him.

Closing his eyes, with a wide-mouthed yawn, he moved his legs beneath the sheet to stretch, and grinned, looking back at her. Thanks to his movement under the sheet, his mind registered that instead of the sparring mat, they were laying in a bed, and the environment shifted creatively to accompany this new input. The most comfortable bed he'd ever owned while living on his own, in his mind, now held his favorite person too. He was bathed in a calm kind of happiness.

She looked so damn beautiful. Her hair was a mess, but the light from the window caught her eyes at just the right angle. No doubt she’d positioned herself that way on purpose. Shifting her weight, she pushed off of him, stretching a leg up and over as she situated herself atop his torso, her legs on either side of his waist. She was wearing her Cerberus hoodie, but her hands were hidden within the sleeves.

“What’s our objective today?” He asked placing his hands gently on her thighs, as his elbows rested on the mattress.

Her eyes narrowed, face darkening, and she bent down, whispering in his ear, “- _when_ we find him… there’s no way in hell he’s leaving _alive_.”

A short guttural purr emanated from his throat at her words, and he huffed an unabashed laugh that clearly sounded aroused. Her tongue traced a thin line on his neck, and he sighed turning his head to look at her as she brought her head up slightly, gazing at him sidelong.

“One hour…” She said to him with a gleam in her eye.

He huffed a laugh knowing full well it wouldn’t take that long, but his mind hitched slightly, that wasn’t Shepard’s voice.

 

“What?” He asked groggily.

“Shepard has asked me to inform you, your meeting on the Citadel begins in one hour.” EDI repeated.

Panic gripped him as he sat up quickly, eyes wide open, heart racing in his chest, “Uh-Thank you, EDI.” He said hastily.

 

 

_Fuuuuck_ …

 

 

He reprimanded himself silently, placing his face in his hands.

_It’s not going to happen. Ever. Get over this. Move on. **Stop fixating on it.**_

 

He’d allowed himself to be sucked into the extranet searches last night. If he’d made any protests to his own mind, they’d clearly been overruled, and now he was dreaming about her. His mind had taken his own past experiences with romantic relationships and implanted Shepard as the subject of focus. He had no idea if humans would lick-

 

_-For the love of- **Stop** …_ _just… fucking stop._

 

 

With a frustrated growl, he pushed off the cot, hefting his armor from the floor, and padding down the hallway toward the showers. Now was not even remotely the time to be in this mindset. He desperately needed to clear his head, and hopefully focusing on the mission would give him just the change of subject he needed.

 

 

_Stress… it has to be just... **stress**._

 

 

He reasoned silently with himself as he turned the faucet on. When they found Sidonis, none of this would matter anymore. Shepard would still be his _commander_ , and he could focus on their main mission, and that was _all_ he needed to focus on…

 

 

 

[2185, Sol System month of “September”; Citadel]

 

 

Shepard and Garrus both pointed their pistols at the volus before them, “We’re looking for someone, a client of yours.” She conveyed, slowly.

“N-Not mine! _Look_ , I’m not Fade. I just work for him… sort of.” The volus said hastily, having clearly identified they weren’t fooled by his performance.

Calmly, Garrus approached the speaker and squatted down in front of him before tapping the barrel of his pistol under the volus’s chin, “Well then… maybe you’d like to tell us where to _find him_.”

“Y-Yes, of course. He’s in the factory district, works out of the old prefab foundry.” He stammered.

Garrus stood, satisfied, and commented to Shepard, “I know the place.”

Wringing his hands slightly, the volus continued, “Uh…he’s got a lot of mercs there… Blue Suns. Harkin thinks they’re protecting him.”

A single word rolled off Garrus’s tongue then, dripping with hatred, “Harkin?”

“What do the Blue Suns have to do with this?” Shepard asked, focused on the other detail of this situation.

“They use his services… to help their people infiltrate businesses and various organizations here on the Citadel.” The squat creature conveyed with surprising honesty.

“Bastard’s using C-Sec to help those scum.” Garrus growled.

“No, no, no!” The volus started, shaking his head and hands in denial before halting, “Well… not _exactly_. He got _fired_ from C-Sec a while ago, but he still knows the systems.”

When both Shepard and Garrus stared at him, waiting to see if he had any more information, he pointed behind him with his thumb and asked hesitantly, “So I-uh-can I go?”

Garrus shrugged as he turned away with Shepard, “Sure, but if we don’t find _Harkin_ , we’ll be back for _you_.”

 

-

 

Upon arrival in the factory district, Shepard and Garrus exchanged glances as Harkin himself squinted at them from across the room. When they drew closer, Harkin finally recognized who they were and flipped his shit, demanding the Blue Suns surrounding him to take them out.

“Run all you want, Harkin! We’ll find you!” Garrus called out as a vague threat.

The Blue Suns at the door and beyond fell rather quickly, but after the thirtieth or so LOKI mech exploded, Shepard called out to him, “How much money is Harkin extorting from these guys to be able to afford all these mechs?!”

“I’ll make sure to ask him!” Garrus called back as he fired, splitting the head of a suns sniper aiming for Shepard. 

Kasumi was somewhere in the vicinity, but she spent nearly every non-combat moment cloaked. What better surprise for the enemies than a foe you never saw walk in the room. Garrus knew Kasumi’s interests though, and most likely it was to see if he or Shepard would forget she was listening to their conversations. For all he knew, she was still snapping pictures.

Shepard dropped her weapon slightly as they walked into a room with a window overlooking the production floor. When Shepard pressed the button to open the shutters, Garrus trained his rifle on the perch high above, gazing down the scope, “Harkin’s _in there_.” His tone dark and filled with contempt.

Mirroring him, Shepard watched Harkin through her own scope before making a little explosion sound with her mouth, and jerking the rifle as if she’d fired, “If only we didn’t need him alive.” She started with an equally annoyed air before lowering her rifle and continuing, stating the obvious, “So, Harkin’s finally gone completely bad.”

Collapsing his weapon, Garrus leaned against the window sill before him and growled, “Harkin’s always been a pain in the ass, but I’m in _no mood_ for his games. If he doesn’t cooperate, I’ll _beat him within an inch of his life._ ”

Shepard observed him for a moment, his entire demeanor was tense, more-so than she’d expected despite the circumstances. His reaction was almost an _over-reaction_ like he was attempting to compensate for something else, “You okay? You’re pretty tense, Garrus.”

He turned his head to gaze at her and attempted to remind her how important this was, “Shepard… Harkin may know why Sidonis wanted to disappear. If so, he knows why _we’re_ here… and I don’t want him _tipping Sidonis off_.” If he’d raised his voice, the end of his sentence may have been an angry yell, but he kept his tone even, letting the words simmer in the room.

They both returned their gaze to the crate and platform filled floor before them. They stood together in silence for a moment until both of them jerked away from the window, Garrus taking cover below it and Shepard standing behind the wall beside it.

“Did _you_ see that?” Garrus questioned, gazing up at her.

With a side-nod she confirmed, “I saw _something_.”

His jaw tensed and he glared at the window above him without peeking above it, “He’s getting ready for us.”

They both fell silent, attempting to listen to the environment for running feet or the stomp of mechs. When neither could make out any additional insurgents in their vicinity, Shepard queried, “What are you going to do to Harkin if he won’t cooperate?”

With an unamused huffed laugh, he replied, “He’s a real criminal now, working with the Blue Suns… I should just shoot him on sight, but like you said, we need him alive… I won’t do any _permanent_ damage. Just enough to loosen his tongue.”

“I trust you.” She said nodding to him and keeping her gaze out the window as their lookout while they planned their approach.

“Thank you. I knew you’d understand.” He said looking up at her with a serious expression.

Nodding toward the room before them she asked, “What do you think Harkin’s got waiting for us in there?”

“Not sure. Looks like an industrial complex… heavy machinery. I’m placing my bets on more LOKI mechs and who knows, maybe more Blue Suns will pop out of crates like murderous jacks-in-the-box. Whatever it is though… Harkin’s kind of trapped himself in a corner, so he must have something big in store for us.”  

Despite the seriousness of the scenario, Shepard grinned wryly at him, “Race ya to the most kills.”

 

It got to him.

God damn, it got to him.

 

The same woman who yesterday had snarled at him in a murderous rage declaring vengeance on his enemies… the same woman who made life-or-death missions _enjoyable_ … the same woman who took one look at him a few years ago on the Citadel and accepted his demands to join her crew as a risk work taking, ensuring along the way that _he_ had the opportunity and resources he needed to make a difference…

That same woman now dared to think she’d out gun him in a target rich field.

He narrowed his eyes and his jaw flexed in a dubious grin, he was pleased with her flirtation… _damn it_ , “What do I get if I win?” He challenged before he could stop himself.

She smirked at him, but turned and ran out the door without giving an answer. Standing as quickly as possible, his armored feet slipping in his haste on the concrete floor, he took off after her.


	19. 19. September, Garrus, Harkin, Sidonis

[Interview; Subject: Garrus Vakarian; late year 2189 CE, 3 years post Reaper Destruction.]

 

 

He looked straight at me, tilting his head slightly, gaze distant and reflective. I waited in silence, letting him think for a solid thirty seconds as I watched his gaze drift down slowly as if it were impacted by his thoughts like the pull of gravity.

“Sir?” I questioned aloud.

Inhaling deeply he looked at me once again, swallowing coarsely, and leaning forward to grab his water bottle from the table. I waited until he’d finished drinking to signal for another one to be placed before him.

“We can stop for today if you’d like.” I said comfortingly.

His bright blue eyes snapped to mine and fixed me in an icy stare as he shook his head subtly as if communicating to me in some kind of code, “No… we can’t.” He said with a very convicting tone.

“Did you fight in the Reaper Invasion?” He asked me.

“Yes, sir…” I replied, swallowing uncomfortably beneath his scrutinizing gaze.

He sighed releasing me from his gaze and running the bottom edge of the glass bottle on the arm of the chair, “You never know these days. I’ve met children who fought… Firing at husks and banshees with a dozen soldiers on either side of them.”

Shaking his head and tilting it sideways slightly to gaze at the glass bottle between his fingers, he returned to the main topic, although clearly today he was in a melancholy mood.

“You know, I didn’t understand what depression really was until about ten years ago.” He started, casting his gaze momentarily at the ceiling, “When I finally learned the symptoms, I discovered I’d had it my whole life.” Offering a despondent huff of a laugh, he shook his head, “I had no idea, thought it was normal… but-uh I don’t need to dwell on-” Pausing for a moment, he took a deep breath, “You know, there’s a part of me that just wants to tell you this grand adventure story about how Shepard and I survived the Collectors and the Reaper Invasion together with all these beautiful scenes of us getting to know one another better amidst the chaos, but you said you wanted the story how it really happened…” He said looking up at me to observe my confirming nod.

A small smile showed in his eyes for a moment, “I do have a lot of those fanciful stories though.” And I smiled in return, glad that he could still hold on to those memories.

“To be honest, I don’t think I really felt _alive_ until Shepard found me again in ’86. Most of my time aboard the Normandy while it was Cerberus property… I just _existed_.” He appeared disenchanted with his own thoughts, “Months went by and I was _consumed_ by hatred, revenge, pain. The nights I laid awake, I’d stare at the ceiling and watch as flames consumed the bodies of my fallen companions. I’d be lost in day dreams at times when my brain reminded me all too acutely, the weight of my last barely living comrade as he became a corpse in my arms. Then EDI would tell me there were 30 mins until drop.” He paused with a huff of a laugh.

His gaze drifted upwards to meet mine again. I’d expected them to be distant, looking through me more than at me, but his eyes simply watched me for a moment with a kind of gentle nature I hadn’t seen very often since taking this job… He was still young, only a few years older than I was. In the moment, however, I was disappointed in myself for looking up at him then like a wise father-figure. I wanted to comfort him, but there was always something about him that made it clear he didn’t want comfort, or that he wouldn’t accept it from anyone but Shepard.

Leaning forward and clasping his hands, resting his chin on top, he sighed, scrutinizing me, “This is going to make me sound older than I am,” he began, “but I want you to hear something and listen very closely.”

His words were rich, like the meaning within them had a spirit of their own. Valuable memories churned within, giving them almost a multi-dimensional significance, “…No matter how much people tell you to handle life on your own, to not depend on anyone… to trust no one, and don’t let them hold your heart in the palm of their hand… I can also tell you with certainty, that when you find the right person… you’re never truly alive until you _do_.” He paused, “Even through the days when it hurts, if you made sure your decision to trust someone was logical, centered on the most important aspects of who _you_ are as a person… you’ll live the rest of your life, even when they’re gone, glad you’d taken that risk.” His gaze had once again drifted to the coffee table and the recorder between us. 

I always wanted to hear more. I knew it was sensitive for him to even meet with me day after day, but curious, I pressed, “What made you decide on Commander Shepard?” –

 

\--- ---

 

[2185, Sol System month of “September”; Citadel]

 

 

Shepard paused before entering the doorway, gun poised, waiting about five seconds for Garrus to do what he could to cut off the only available exit before standing and aiming her pistol at Harkin’s head with a challenging glare.

Backing up, keeping his vision trained on Shepard, he grinned smugly, “Heh. You were close, but not close enou-“

The rest of his sentence was completed by the pained sound he made in response to the clash of metal against bone as Garrus’s pistol slammed into his face. As Harkin held a hand to his mouth, groaning in pain, he didn’t seem to notice the massive hand wrapped around his arm, pulling him back into the room before slamming him against the wall with his forearm to Harkin’s throat.

Garrus relished in the moment, seeing Harkin finally trapped and completely at his mercy. The hatred cascaded slowly down Garrus’s spine, and twisted through his limbs with every heartbeat. Every muscle in his body was tense and his voice was practically a growl, “So, _Fade_ … Couldn’t make yourself disappear, hm?”

With a smug grin, Harkin shrugged speaking with a self-satisfied tone, “Come on, _Garrus_ … we can work this out… Whaddya need?”

Shepard briefly wished turians had muscles in their face like a dog, Mordin would probably know the names of the specific tissues, because snarling so dramatically would fit them _really well_ , but even without it, Garrus’s fury was incredibly obvious.

In an attempt to refrain from breaking Harkin’s neck before getting the information he needed, Garrus released his hold on the man, letting his heels drop fully to the ground, and turned around to stare out the window behind him, “I’m looking for someone.”

“Well then, looks like we’ve both got something the other wants.” Harkin said rolling his shoulders and neck casually.

Even though Garrus couldn’t quite make the same dramatic expression as an enraged canine, his face still displayed an obvious snarl, his mouth opening in a silent yell as he whirled around before clenching his jaw, and slamming his armored knee straight up into Harkin’s balls.

Shepard really should not be enjoying this, but… “We’re not here to ask favors, Harkin.” She needlessly clarified as he struggled to look up at her from his hunched over position on the floor.

Using the wall for support, he slowly stood again, his voice still hitching in pain, “Maybe… but I still haven’t heard… what you want.”

“You helped a _friend_ of mine disappear. I need to find him.” Garrus said lowering his chin slightly to glare at the frail creature before him.

Harkin grunted still attempting to steady his breathing, “I… _might_ need a bit more information than _that_.”

Obliging, Garrus spoke quickly, “Sidonis. Turian. Came from the-“

“-I know who he is.” Harkin began, cutting him off with a wave of his hand, “and I’m not telling _you_ squat.”

“Harkin, this really doesn’t have to be difficult.” Shepard said motioning toward him with a nonchalant wave and a condescending sweetness in her voice.

“ _Screw you_.” He spat, “Plus, I don’t give out _client information_ … it’s _bad_ for _business._ ” He hissed.

In the blink of an eye, Garrus braced one hand against Harkin’s shoulder to keep him in place and slammed his knee into Harkin’s torso, just under the rib cage, effectively knocking him to the ground along with the air that used to be in his lungs.

“You know what else is bad for business?!” Garrus started with a wide eyed warning before narrowing his eyes and finishing his statement as his foot pressed against Harkin’s throat and collar bone, “A _broken **neck**!_” He emphasized by bearing additional weight down on the man below him.

Harkin instinctively turned his head to the side, attempting to avoid the heavy weight directly on his trachea. However, in order to try and get away from Garrus, the idiot turned to look to the right, presenting his jugular to be crushed instead of his, smaller and slightly less influential, femoral artery. “Alright! Alright!” Harkin said, eyes wide with panic, as his face turned brighter and brighter red, “Get off me.” He demanded shoving at the massive foot above him.

If Garrus had picked Harkin up instead and held him in a rear choke hold, he’d be passed out on the floor in less than a dozen seconds; however, with only one artery blocked, it would take quite a bit longer, _and_ _Garrus knew it_ … but it was clear Harkin was already seeing stars. For a moment, Shepard considered reaching out to stop Garrus, but he knew what he was doing.

She wouldn’t be in the least bit surprised to learn Garrus had done this sort of thing many more times with criminals than she ever had on a sparring mat. Despite his raw anger, he seemed to always know exactly where his limits were. After all, he was _Archangel_ , and if he needed someone _alive_ , like he’d said, he’d do ‘ _just enough to loosen his tongue’_.

Shepard trusted him to do what needed to be done without causing irreparable damage. She wouldn’t trust him with something like this if he hadn’t _earned_ it.

As she observed nearby, arms crossed and head tilted, Shepard winced imagining what the metal underside of Garrus’s armored foot on a soft-tissued neck might feel like. Thankfully, she’d never have to find out. As expected, a repercussion of the sheer pressure of Garrus’s weight and Harkin’s struggling, the underside of his boot left several surface-level cuts on Harkin’s neck, visibly beading with blood as Garrus finally stepped away, staring the human down with well-restrained murderous loathing.

Harkin rolled over taking a deep breath and staring intensely at the ground as the built up pressure in his skull decreased gradually. He brought a hand up to his neck, feeling the cuts and blood that had accumulated there and looked up at the turian above him with a now submissive tone in his final challenge, “Terminus really changed you, huh, Garrus?”

As Harkin rose to his feet, Garrus tilted his head slightly, appearing to consider this for a split moment before replying, “No, but _Sidonis_ … _opened my eyes_.” He said quietly before commanding, “Now arrange a meeting.”

Harkin’s gaze shifted between Garrus and Shepard, now finally realizing there was absolutely no way he could gain the upper hand in this scenario. With a more calm kind of anger in his visage, Garrus momentarily allowed Harkin’s hesitation, but tilted his head toward the console to usher him toward his assigned task.

Reluctantly, Harkin nodded in agreement and grumbled, “I’m going.”

As Harkin spoke, Garrus pulled out his pistol, glancing sidelong through his headset at Shepard. She looked up at him with an inquisitive expression attempting to decipher if he was really going to kill Harkin when this was over. She’d trusted him so far as she said she would, but trust had its limits.

Walking back, refusing to look at either of them like a dog with its tail between its legs, Harkin shook his head before conceding and looking at them both in quick succession, “He wants to meet you in front of the Orbital Lounge. Middle of the day.” Staring at Garrus warily, he took a step back, holding his hands palm up, though down by his sides, in surrender, “So… if our business is done, I’ll be going.” He said before motioning behind him with his thumb.

He’d taken a full step back, but without moving his feet, Garrus was still able to reach out and fully wrap his hand around Harkin’s upper trapezius with his thumb pressing against the opposing collar bone, before once more slamming him against the wall. This time, Garrus’s pistol pressed into Harkin’s stomach.

“I don’t think so. You’re a criminal now, Harkin.” Garrus snarled inches away from his face.

Harkin turned his head sideways somewhat attempting to get as much space between him and the turian as possible, “So what… you’re- you’re just going to _kill me_? That’s not your _style_ , Garrus.”

Shepard watched Garrus’s reactions closely, noticing his hand tightening somewhat on the pistol, hesitating at Harkin’s challenging words.

He wanted to, but he wouldn’t.

C-Sec had plenty of evidence on file to nail this guy for the next three centuries… He wouldn’t get off scot free, and they would soon know of his exact location. Thankfully, she knew Garrus would be aware of this. Despite his boiling anger because of his recent circumstances, there was so much good in him, so much control, his mind was always racing, thinking of how best to handle a scenario. It was clear Garrus was always thinking diligently about any setting he was in, finding small things others missed, making sure everyone was safe… Watching him process information was like watching herself, his body language, the way he’d unintentionally glare at people when they were talking, trying to pay attention to subtle details, the tension he carried in his shoulders. Even in this heated environment, she could reasonably predict what he’d do… 

“Kill you?” He repeated mockingly, “No…” he ridiculed with a sardonic tone, shaking his head, and backing away.

Harkin seized his sudden freedom to push away from the wall and step back, “but I don’t mind slowing you down a little.” Garrus continued, aiming pointedly at Harkin’s leg and pulling the trigger, “Maybe give C-Sec a blood trail to follow.” 

The yell that emitted from Harkin’s mouth was more of a hushed gasp as he fell to the ground clutching his leg and attempted to see straight through the pain. Adrenaline kicked in as he helplessly yelled, “Bastard!” at their backs as they walked away from him.

“Sidonis better be there… or I’m coming back to _finish the job_.” Garrus threatened without looking back, his voice deep enough to hear through a brick wall.

 

Kasumi had remained completely silent and mostly invisible on this entire mission, and the pictures she’d gotten were _fantastic_ , although she would never tell them that… unless they really did hook up, then _maybe_. In the backseat of the car, she tabbed through the photos she’d taken. Her favorites of the most recent scene were a few she’d snagged of Garrus looking directly into her invisible camera while he’d knelt in front of Shepard, and a few of Shepard gazing at him while he threatened Harkin. While they were on the Citadel, if they had time, she wanted to get these printed for a physical scrap book. Shepard and Garrus were meeting with Sidonis, so she might sneak off to pay for printing while they were dealing with that noise…

 

When the car landed, Garrus paused and shook his head, “I should have shot out both his legs.”

Shepard turned in her seat to face him, but he refused to look at her, his gaze shifting as he observed the area beyond, “I bet you Kasumi got photographic proof of a bunch of evidence in there to connect Harkin to this whole situation,” she started, pointing behind her with a thumb, “and I know C-Sec already has a bunch of disconnected proof that _will_ connect to him once he’s taken in. He won’t get away.” She confirmed, “You _know_ all this… that’s why you didn’t aim for his head.” She said looking at him with a gentle knowing expression.

Turning his head to look at her now, he sighed, observing her face for a moment before nodding, “I suppose your right.” His gaze once more flicked outside the window before returning to her, “Thanks for helping me with this, Shepard.”

She took a moment to reflect on his position, and considered how she might feel if her entire crew was burned alive by one of her own. In that split second she looked at him with a renewed but subtle harshness in her eyes, “Knowing as much as you do about the situation and his motives, I’d do the same if I were you.” 

He huffed an accepting laugh and nodded, silently appreciating her confirmed support… and he wanted so badly to believe her.

It hadn’t been until they took off in this car again the worrying thought of her potential betrayal began to nag at him. What if Shepard warned Sidonis? What if she was just playing along so she could get as close to him as possible to ensure everyone made it out alive? Try to talk him out of it… to give Sidonis another chance…

She’d said she wouldn’t yesterday, but sentiments change when you’re actually in the scenario. Her words said something and her facial expression confirmed it, but could he _trust_ her on this? It was personal, it wasn’t related to her objective, and she had every right as his commanding officer to tell him to stand down.

He couldn’t find anything to say at the moment as her bright eyes stared up at him, gentle, understanding, calculating, and determined.

 

 

 _Please…_ he silently begged, _I don’t know what I’d do if …_

 

 

He looked away from her and searched the surroundings, “I can get a clear shot from over there.” He said nodding at the dark corner of the restricted-access-walkway they were currently illegally parked on.

“What do you need me to do?” She asked turning to look at where’d indicated.

“Keep him talking and don’t get in my way. I’ll let you know when he’s in my sights. Give me a signal so I know you’re ready, and I’ll take the shot.” His voice was matter of fact, serious, detail oriented, determined to get this over with. He exited the car as she moved over into the driver's seat and circled the car back down below for a proper parking place. 

 

 

 

“Shepard? Can you hear me?” He asked as he knelt at the bannister, extending his rifle and surveying the scene below.

“Loud and clear.” She replied.

“Alright… He’s to your right sitting down. Wave him over and keep him talking.” His voice was quiet, but resolute.

The seated turian was bouncing his leg up and down anxiously until he spotted Shepard and stood, approaching her hastily, "Are you one of Harkin’s men? I don’t remember seeing you before.”

Shepard took a split second to observe the turian before her and think through her personal distaste for his actions, “You’re Sidonis, right?”

“Spirits! Don’t _ever say that name aloud._ ” He whispered anxiously, bending towards her slightly.

The comm in Shepard’s ear thrummed with Garrus’s voice, “That’s it Shepard, keep him talking, just a few more seconds.”

“Sir,” she started, “I have a friend in the room with us who is looking to kill you-“

Sidonis looked like he’d just been jolted with electricity, “What?!”

“-Shepard…” Garrus whispered in the comm…

 

 

_No… please… Shepard…_

 

 

“I think you know who I’m talking about.” She started slowly as Sidonis ducked his head into his shoulders and gazed around now very on edge.

Ignoring his nervousness, she continued, “I’ve heard all the evidence he’s presented but I’ve never had the chance to hear from you what happened… I’m just warning you now, this is the only chance you’ll get to present your case.”

Garrus’s heart was pounding, he had to stay focused, try to block out the worry in his mind.

 

 

_She wouldn’t… She wouldn’t let him go… Shepard, please._

 

 

“… _Fuck_.” Sidonis said shaking his head and looking around like he was absolutely exhausted. “Look… I didn’t want to do it, but I didn’t have a choice.”

Garrus’s voice purred in her ear again, “Everyone has a choice…”

She let Sidonis continue speaking, “I did something stupid… so stupid. When I radioed Garrus, I was honestly hoping he’d be able to help. That maybe we could all get out of this alive and I could atone for my sins. It wasn’t long after he told me he was on his way they found me, took me down and… told me to tell them where Archangel was hiding or they’d _kill me_. I-I didn’t have the opportunity to radio back, tell him to get everyone out! It was… _too late_.” He gazed down at Shepard with a pained look in his eyes, “They’re all dead _because of me_.”

Garrus heard his own words echo back in his ears from the mouth of someone who, once a friend, had become a sworn enemy. No… No. This wasn’t right. Sidonis had sold them out for _credits_.

“Shepard, he’s lying. This story doesn’t add up. He got _paid_ for this.” Garrus urged.

“Sidonis… were you paid?” Shepard asked glaring up at him.

“I- listen it-“ he stammered.

“Did. You. Get. Paid?” Shepard asked again, taking a step toward him.  

“Yes… Yes I did, but-“

“-and as soon as you gave them the information, they transferred the credits to you and let you walk scot free. How much was it, hm?” She pressed tilting her head and squinting at him in judgement.

“It doesn’t matter-“ He tried to defend.

“Sidonis, I want you to listen very closely to my next sentence… _I_ am the only thing standing between you and a bullet through the brain. You either tell me everything _now_ or I’m more than happy to let that happen.” She growled.

 

 

_Shepard… just let me take the **damn shot**. Nothing he says can justify this!_

 

 

He looked sick, “It doesn’t matter…” he repeated quietly. “I know what I did… I know they died because of me.”

He raised his head to look at where Garrus was likely sitting, although he could barely make out a figure in the shadows, knowing he was listening via comms, “I wake up every night… sick and sweating. Each of their faces staring back at me… _accusing_ me.” He shook his head looking back down at Shepard, “I’m already a dead man…” he started as pain enraptured his expression, “I’ve just been too afraid to look it in the eyes.”

“Are you pleading guilty then?” Shepard asked looking up at him.

With a forlorn expression at her he swallowed, stepped to the side, and returned his gaze to Garrus’s position, “I am.”

 

 

 

_The world moved in slow motion._

_Tears pooled in Sidonis’s eyes and Garrus watched them fall through the cross hairs of his scope._

_His throat was tight… his stomach twisted in an uncomfortable knot._

_Finger on the trigger, he stared into Sidonis’s resigned icy blue eyes…_

_and fired._

 

 

 

With a distraught expression he sighed, collapsing his rifle, and moving back, sitting back against the wall so no one below could see him.

It was finally over.

His heart was pounding in his chest, emotions he wasn’t quite able to process seized his spine. Shepard’s car landed on the platform and he listened to her footsteps as she approached.

“Clean and simple. Good work.” She said sliding against the wall next to him.

“Shepard…” He started, his voice barely a whisper, unable to look at her, “Were you going to let him walk?”

Her hand reached over and took his gently. He closed his eyes, accepting her touch, and closing his fingers around her tiny hand while listening to the screams, yells, and police whistles on the floor below them. Already rumors as to the identity and location of the sniper were circulating.  

“No.” she said quietly, “He committed an atrocity, destroyed ten people, ruined his own life, and has been plaguing yours for months. All the evidence confirmed he was guilty.” She placed her other hand on top of his as she laced her fingers with his. “It’s over now.”

He nodded in acceptance, still unable to make eye contact with her. “Then why did you make him-“ It felt like a dumb question. Even though Shepard already knew he was guilty, she was still giving him the chance to admit it while Garrus listened. For both of them to accept their fates.

“You needed to _hear it_ from _him_.” She said gently, rubbing her thumb lightly on the side of his hand.

He wasn’t really sure whether or not she was right. Regardless, he didn’t expect it to impact him quite like this. It… _hurt_.

“You okay?” she asked tilting her head a bit hoping he’d finally look at her.

He turned and acknowledged her gaze with a tired one of his own, but he didn’t know what to say. He inhaled deeply, before sighing, his voice barely a whisper, “We better get moving.”


	20. 20. September, Garrus, Shepard

 

[2185, Sol System month of “September”; Normandy SR-2]

 

 

The elevator doors slid open behind him but he didn’t turn around to acknowledge it. His mouth hung open, panting, several drops of diluted saliva dripped out the front of his mouth as he stared at the ground, hands on his knees. The surface of his skin was a shade darker than usual, the vascularization at the surface allowing for as much heat to escape as possible by shunting blood closer to the surface. Still panting, he pivoted his upper body somewhat to glance back at the elevator with one eye. Of course, _Shepard_ now stood a few yards away, observing him with a bottle of ice water in her hand.

He was barefooted and bare chested, wearing only his under armor bottoms. Pivoting away from her he attempted to ignore her presence for the moment. He considered grabbing his shirt and throwing it on again, but it was long sleeved and nothing about that sounded even remotely appealing.

He’d never seen her in shorts before, but the tank top was pretty standard. However, unlike his bare feet, hers made barely audible sticking and squeaking noises as she approached. The skin on the bottoms of her feet must be softer than he’d thought. Without a word, she handed the bottle to him and he nodded thanking her as a few more drops of saliva fell to the floor below him.

“How long you been down here?” she asked looking around the dark bay lit only by the emergency lights.

He shook his head, “half hour, maybe.” He said as he tilted his head back and tipped the water from the bottle into his mouth, swallowing and sighing, closing his mouth a bit more as his heart rate continued to slow gradually.

“Line drills?” she asked trying to figure out what he’d been up to.

Shrugging and still panting a bit he managed to say, “A few. Did some-” he paused swallowing past the dryness in his throat, “-other drills too.” He poured some more water from the bottle into his mouth and sighed, standing at his full height, closing his mouth fully for a moment, now able to pant through his nose a bit more, and handed it back to her. “Thanks.” He said nodding at the bottle now in her hand.

Nodding, she gazed up at him before questioning, “Garrus?” her voice holding somewhat of an amused tone.

He cleared his throat, coughing once before forcing a small ball of thickened saliva back down his throat, “Yeah?” he asked turning to look at her again.

She grinned and reached up toward his headset, gesturing to remove it.

Immediately he jerked away, “What are you doing?” He asked a bit more harshly than he’d intended.

“It’s two in the morning. We’re not fighting anyone, why do you still have this thing on?” She sounded amused despite his recoil.

Shaking his head slightly he shrugged, looking away from her to his left, “Just… habit I guess.”

“Mhm… What? Is it an embarrassing story or something?” She probed, crossing her arms.

He rolled his head back slightly really not wanting to have this conversation right now.

She paused with sudden realization, correctly reading his body language, “You’re upset.”

He sighed and looked down at her with a gentle but distant expression. The incident was several hours ago and he _still_ had no idea what to do about it.

So, he just said the first thing that came to his mind, “I wish you had just shut up.” He started honestly, his tone distant and oddly gentle accompanied by a disappointed shake of his head.

He almost winced at what he’d just said, but she could take it like an adult. It wasn’t meant as an insult, it was just what he’d wished she’d done. Sure, he could have phrased it better, but this was _Shepard_ … she’d understand.

Turning his vision away from her for a moment he started again, “I wish you’d just let me take the shot…” Looking back at her with a hint of frustration he tapped the side of his head once with a finger, “Now, I’ve got this image of _Sidonis-_ ” he paused waving his hand with frustration, “- _humbly accepting his death_ in my mind. So, now instead of a heartless murderer being snuffed out with a merciful one-shot-kill, my mind just put another tally next to the names of my fallen _comrades_. You-“

He paused taking a sharp inhale and shaking his head at her, trying to understand why, “There was absolutely no need for it, but you made him _real,_ again, Shepard.”

“-Good.” She said raising her chin and leveling him with an authoritative glare.

“ _Good_?” He challenged, facing her more square-on, unable to suppress the annoyance in his tone.

Saren had been an idea, a twisted mind affected by something he didn’t understand, desperate and afraid. Saleon had been a heartless psychopath. Sidonis… god _damn it_ , he was supposed to be a traitor, someone no longer worthy of a title, someone who had renounced his significance in the lives of those who once cared for his safety.

She leaned forward toward him and confirmed, “Yes, _good_.” Shaking her head in disappointment she leaned back again, “Garrus… when we were on the SSV… I think I did you a disservice.”

He shook his head, now defending her, “No, Shepard, you-“

“-I made it seem like _every_ decision should be made with logic alone, and we _thrived_ on that thought process together. We believed that careful calculation of the cost and benefit should outweigh everything else. You were eager to join me in that philosophy because it’s what you’re _naturally gifted_ at. Your mind is _incredible_.” She said gazing at him with fascination, “Sometimes, I just watch you while you’re thinking about something and I-…”

Shaking her head she dropped that particular train of thought, returning to her original point, “Decisions like _Sidonis_?” She started, “That wasn’t us fighting against Saren to stop him from involving the Reapers in destroying the galaxy. This wasn’t the Collectors, twisted monstrosities of Reaper subservience. This wasn’t fighting against Dr. Saleon who _continued_ to harm people after running away… This was _one_ man who made a _terrible mistake_ and thus,” She paused, making sure he understood the accepting tone in her next few words, “rightfully so, suffered the consequences.”

Tilting his head slightly in condemnation he clarified, “There’s a _difference_ , Shepard…” he started, with an authoritative tone, “between someone who makes a random bad mistake, and someone who _chooses_ to betray someone, and in his case,” his voice slightly rising in volume, “ _multiple **innocent** people_, who were _fighting_ for justice and peace in a part of the galaxy that probably has never known the meaning of the word.”

He lowered his voice again now whispering forcefully, “He became the _exact thing we were fighting to eradicate_.” He emphasized with a bit of a snarling expression before continuing, “Sidonis earned his place as a mercenary the _instant_ that decision was made. He was no longer my brother-in-arms. All my work as Archangel, I made sure our targets were given a clean and surprising death, no dreading, no acceptance, _just_ retribution.”

He paused momentarily, glaring at her, “They had _chosen_ to follow that path and those experiences _were_ their resume.” Shaking his head with sarcastic amusement he continued, “You know what I _didn’t_ do before my team and I would take them out, Shepard?” He probed with a defiant tone, “We didn’t ask them how they got there. We didn’t ask to hear their life stories. You know why? Because it _didn’t matter_. They made horrible decisions _on purpose_ to end up where they were and we took them out because of it.” He stated practically growling. “Saren was an upstanding soldier once upon a time. Dr. Saleon, I’m sure, was an exemplary student who wanted to make the world a better place, but did those things matter?” He asked staring at her with a sarcastic wide eyed questioning expression, “No…” He stated definitively before glaring at her again, “They didn’t.”

She was silent for a few seconds, thinking about how she wanted to reply.

Slowly, she started, “The part that hurts you about _this_ one, Garrus… is that we can all see parts of _ourselves_ in people like Sidonis. He wasn’t this distant, delusional, figure of immense power. He wasn’t an incredibly intelligent psychopath, and he didn’t quite fit the profile of a gleefully murderous mercenary…” She reached forward and placed her balled up fist gently against his chest to emphasize her point, “He _was_ one of us.”

He wished he could curl his upper lip in disgust as humans often did, but all he could do was narrow his eyes and say in a disapproving tone, “That’s not-“

“-Fair?” She finished looking up at him with a challenging expression, removing her hand from his chest, and crossing her arms again.

It definitely wasn’t the word he was going to use, but she’d made her point.

Gently, she continued, “Garrus, you and I are analytical creatures. We’re serious, we work hard, we get shit done, we protect everyone we can, and we just so happen to try and tackle some of the most dangerous problems we’ve ever faced as a _galaxy_. We thrive in an environment that _makes us think_ … but _lives_ are _never **just** calculus_. We don’t kill out of _pride_.”

With a growling tone he recounted, “Others _don’t think that way,_ Shepard. They won’t hesitate to-”

Her eyes widened in disbelief and frustration, “- _You’re_ **_better than that_**.” She snapped. “We fire when we’re fired upon and _not before_ , we kill when the cost of doing nothing is higher than doing _something…_ we _don’t **kill** _out of _**pride**_.”

Pausing briefly, she looked down at the floor and uttered a calming sigh, “We both agreed this scenario needed to end. Sidonis would never have paid for his crimes any other way and on top of that, letting him live, grieving with the memory of his betrayal, was punishment enough, but we chose to end that suffering.”

He now audibly growled before responding, “He didn’t deserve _any_ **_mercy_** beyond a single shot through the _skull_ , Shepard. Why… you didn’t have to twist this situation in on itself. It’s so convoluted now I don’t know where it’s supposed to end.”

“It doesn’t… Garrus.” She said with a tired expression, “These decisions _never_ go away. Part of this was mercy, part of it was pride, part of it was revenge, and part of it was justice. Some aspects of it were right, others were wrong, but none of those alone can validate acting solely on the other.” She took a somewhat shaky breath before continuing, “They’re _all_ involved and we have to learn to figure out whether or not fixating on _one_ of those aspects is going to justify our actions or continue to destroy us.” He held her gaze, listening intently, “Just because we felt _good_ about a decision doesn’t mean it was right, and just because we feel torn up about another scenario doesn’t mean we did it _all wrong_ either. We make the best decisions we can with the information we have, but we can’t forget to look at all sides of the picture when given the opportunity, even when it hurts, or else it turns in to an even bigger mistake.”

Realization slowly washed over him, “You’ve made this decision before haven’t you?”

She nodded slowly, “I know I’m going to sound like a broken record here, but I’m going to say almost the same thing I told you a while ago... The most we can do right now is try to help those we care about to find peace and figure out, amidst it all, how to create it for ourselves. In all the chaos, we have to remember to value the alternate options, no matter how unpleasant… and _that_ requires finding the right people to help us through the worst of it.”

She dropped her gaze once more to the ground before looking up at him again and speaking with soft sincerity, “I’m sorry. I know it would have been easier to not think about this after the fact. It would have been a satisfying kill if I hadn’t asked for his side of the story when we already knew the answer.” Hurriedly, she added with a matter-of-fact tone, “and I’m not trying to guilt trip you.”

Minutes ago he’d been angry at her, blaming his inner turmoil on her actions earlier, but he noticed now, a strange kind of peace had settled in his chest.

She spoke again, “I’m simply stating another aspect of the truth…”

Her mind was incredible… her heart always in the right place… And she _just. kept. talking…_

With a sigh she said slowly, “I also don’t want to hear you say “it’s okay” if it actually isn’t.”

His mind was focused on watching her, scrutinizing her actions, attempting to analyze her minute movements.

She was… _scared_.

Scared of what? Uncertain of what he should do, he acted on instinct. He stepped forward, reaching out and gently took hold of her tiny face in both hands. Slowly, he shook his head at her with a kind reassuring expression, ensuring she made eye contact with him.

He wasn’t trying to be romantic, he simply wanted her to stop worrying and listen, “Shepard…” He said quietly, making sure she was focused on him, “You’ve said we need to pick the right people to watch our backs, keep one another grounded even when it’s hard, and even if we die trying to take down the Collectors, I am _incredibly_ grateful that-“ he paused, words then completely failing him. He swallowed forcefully, trying to jumpstart his brain again.

 

 

_She’s scared of losing… She’s **actually** scared of losing **me** , thinking I’d be so mad at her… Shepard… **no**._

 

 

He wished he could just get the damn words out of his mouth. Speaking was never his top area of eloquence. Still at a loss for what to say, he dropped his hands from her face and wrapped one arm around her shoulders as the other held her head to his chest. Willingly accepting the hug he was offering her arms wrapped around his torso, hands lying flat on his shoulder blades.

A few seconds passed before she let go of him and he reciprocated only to find she pulled away wiping at her eyes.

 

 

_She’s crying._

 

 

His reserved concern must have been pretty obvious for she shook her head and offered an annoyed laugh, “Sorry. I promise I’ll stop in a minute.” She motioned in a circle with one hand and braced her other hand on her knee, “Just gotta let the chemicals in my brain do their thing.” She said looking up a bit and shaking her head as tears streamed down her involuntarily distraught visage.

He should have stopped it, but a laugh escaped his mouth, “I’ve hah- never seen someone cry and handle it like _this_.”

She shrugged unsure of how else to respond, “Eh, you know-“ she said sniffling and blinking heavily before her chest heaved and she succumbed to several sobs, putting a hand over her mouth as her eyes pinched in emotional turmoil she hadn’t signed up for. A moment later, now using both hands to cover her mouth, her eyes squinted, and he saw her jaw open wider before a strange sound escaped her throat… a silent scream.

He had absolutely no idea what was happening, but she’d apparently been through this many times before and knew how to handle it. She seemed strangely stable and clearly flustered at the same time… unable to stop the tears while cognitively recognizing the chemicals in her brain were needlessly dragging her along for a ride and she was powerless to stop them. Her best course of action was to try and ride it out, letting that part of her brain overreact while attempting to keep the rest of her mind as calm as possible.

When she could breathe again, she growled aloud at herself, “Chemical-” She swallowed forcefully, “-composition in the brain makes you do funny things even when your conscious sees no logical reason for the reaction.” She explained. Hands on her knees, she watched, with a mostly blank expression, as tears fell to the ground between her feet, “They just-” she interrupted her explanation with a sniff, “-build up for so long and finally it’s just… ‘ya know what we should do right now? Cry. Crying is clearly the best course of action…’” She half-laughed-half-sobbed before she groaned frustrated at the situation she was in and looked back up at him.

Bringing her hands up swiftly, she wiped the tears off her cheeks and said, “Okay, I think I’m good now.” But as soon as she said it another sob wrenched her body, “ _damn it_.” She cried, doubling over a bit and taking a step away from him.

Quite amused at how she was handling her current scenario he offered, “Would _punching_ something help?”

He patiently waited for her response until she was capable of doing so. Looking up at him with tear stained cheeks, hands now braced on her hips, she commented, “Yeah. You know, I think it might.”

He took a half step back with one foot, bracing himself and held out both of his hands, reinforcing one against the other, but keeping his elbows bent, “Go for it.”

With barely a warning, she threw a jab at his hands and her knuckles made a loud crack sound against his palms, “Okay...” he said quietly rubbing his palms together, “I knew that was going to be at least uncomfortable, but yeesh.”

“You good?” she said with an amused expression as she now dried the last of her tears.

A grin in his eyes he shrugged, still rubbing his palms together, “Yeah, I offered. Are _you_ good?” He paused, gazing at her somewhat from under his brow.

She nodded, pushing the hair out of her face and looking up at him with determination, “Yeah, thanks… sorry about… _that_.” She said gesturing with a hand at the general scenario.

Silence passed between them for a moment as he looked down at his hands, still lightly rubbing them together, “Shepard… Thank you for your help with Sidonis.”

She opened her mouth to protest, but he raised his chin cutting her off, “ _Thank you,_ for your help.”

Her gaze hardened, scrutinizing him for a moment as he gazed at her with gentle sincerity. Finally, she nodded in acceptance.

After a brief pause, he huffed an unamused laugh, “Whatever happens with the Collectors, or the Reapers, or whatever else comes after us… I know you’ll get the job done.”

With an anxious breathy groan she shook her head, “Do you really think we’ll find something worse than the Collectors or the Reapers?”

She was clearly feeling better, and he felt a quip of a reply come to mind, so clearly he was also in a better place mentally, “I like to expect the worst.” He said gesturing casually with an open hand, “There’s always a small chance I’ll be pleasantly surprised.”

A smile shone in her eyes, even in the dim light, and one corner of her mouth stretched in a grin to reflect it. She shook her head at him as if amused at the thoughts in her own head.

“What?” He prompted, shifting his weight and crossing his arms.

Tilting her head slightly, she observed him with a gentle expression in her eyes, “I couldn’t do this without you, Garrus.”

He turned his head away from her, shaking his head in amusement before looking back at her, “Sure you could. Not as _stylishly_ of course.”

This felt comfortable… good… _right_ … how it should be.

With a sigh he looked around the cargo bay and said as if talking to the walls, “It’s strange going into a suicide mission on a human ship.” Returning his gaze to her he nodded in indication, “Your people don’t prepare for high-risk operations the way turians do… unless this is just a Cerberus thing.”

She nodded behind her and he uncrossed his arms, following her over to a few crates they could sit on and talk. With his internal temperature more regulated, he grabbed his shirt off the crate he’d thrown it at earlier and put it on as he sat down adjacent to her.

Setting the water bottle on the crate next to her, Shepard leaned back on her hands, crossing her legs in a 4 position, “I figured you’d be used to high-risk operations on a human ship. I mean, think about all the chasing we did to reach Saren on Ilos.”

“Sure…” He started with a shrug, “but that was quick. We raced out, landed, blew up some geth, and saved the galaxy. This time we’ve got Miranda… and _Cerberus,_ and EDI all telling us what we’re up against, although those three things might be synonymous.” Taking a deep breath, also leaning back on his hands, he sighed, “You know, I think I prefer blind optimism.”

A huffed laugh escaped Shepard’s mouth and she nodded slowly before yawning, “Ugh, damn it. What time is it?” She asked looking around for a tablet.

“Two forty four” he said casually, seeing the time display through his headset.

“Okay…” She said motioning toward him, “Seriously, are you going to tell me the story with that thing now or what?”

He grinned gently, “Would you believe me and forget about it if I said it’s a boring story?”

Turning her cheek toward him in a gesture of requesting more information with friendly interest she stated, “I mean, I might, if it’s true.”

Nodding slowly he glanced up at her, “Well… then I guess you’ll get to determine that for yourself.”

A small chuckle escaped her nose before she leaned forward clasping her hands and resting her chin on top of them with an expectant smile.  

He sighed, tilting his head back a bit before rolling it back to look at her, “My mom was a sniper and a pretty damn good spy for the turian military.”

Her eyes widened, “Wait, what? I thought that would have been your dad.”

A grin creased his eyes, “Nope. When dad served he was mostly a tactician. Pretty sure he was somewhere around O-8, might have gotten his O-9 in the last few years I don't really know, but he was always more predominantly a paperwork and regulations guy. Followed his COs around taking orders like he was supposed to.” He reached next to her and picked up the water bottle pouring some more of it in his mouth before twisting the cap back on and setting it down again, “In her younger years, mom was the one tracking down leads, figuring out just how to get to a target. She would have been an amazing Spectre before she began to show signs of Corpalis Syndrome.”

With a tilt of her head, Shepard asked, “Why wasn’t she?”

Garrus huffed a laugh looking at her with a ‘you really have to ask?’ expression, “Dad. They got married really young… I mean they waited a long time before they had us, but apparently mom got an offer in their first few years of marriage and he was so opposed she never brought it up again.” He shook his head, annoyed, “She should have done the training anyway. He’d have gotten over it eventually.” Looking across the room he tilted his head slightly sideways before bringing it upright again, “I’m making it sound like she was submissive. She definitely wasn’t. My parents actually worked really well together. There was a strange kind of dynamic I never really understood, especially since he so regularly put his work ahead of family. I don’t know…” he paused, “This sounds strange, but I think my mom almost liked it that way, she was proud of how hard he worked, and with him so focused on other things, she could take on more dangerous jobs and she pretty much had us all to herself. He was a very distant companion, but there was always this look in her eye when they were together like he was exactly what she needed.”

Shepard furrowed her brow slightly, “It sounds a bit oppressive, honestly.”

“I know.” He said turning to look at her with an equally confused expression, “I thought so too, but maybe there were aspects of his personality that she just absolutely loved that most people didn’t get to see, I don’t know. My dad and I were usually at odds, so I probably wasn’t naturally wired to see the good in him.”

He looked up thoughtfully before continuing, “My mom’s first big injury- did I already tell you this part?” he asked turning his gaze toward her again.

She shrugged one shoulder, “All you said really was that her health declined while you were still in college.”

Nodding, he continued, “Yeah, well… I’m sure you’d be shocked if I told you I got in a pretty bad fight in my second year.”

A dubious grin curled her mouth, “Oh, _so_ shocked.”

He rolled his eyes amused and continued, “It-ah…” he huffed a laugh, “It actually was pretty bad. My opponent’s claw just…” He brought his finger up to indicate his eye and dragged it across as he made a small whistle sound to indicate a cut.

Her eyes widened shocked, “Noooo.”

He nodded, “Yup. Was clinically blind in that eye for several months. No one was really sure if I was going to get it back.”

She leaned forward trying to gaze through the headset to look for a scar. Sighing, he reached up and unattached it from his head, the blue light immediately going dark, as he looked down at her. She reached up, her hand how holding his jaw lightly. “Look over there.” She indicated with a nod of her head. He did so and she lightly moved his head around with her tender hold on his jaw until she saw it. The skin around his eyes were darker than the rest and the room was dimly lit, he wasn’t surprised if the scar was difficult to see.

“That’s crazy, your cornea formed like… some kind of opalescent line in the middle, and oh! My gosh! I just noticed. It’s hard to see because your sclera is black, but there’s a deep ridge in it still.”

Her cheek was almost flush against his mouth as she gazed up at his eye, and a small smile started to make his eyes narrow a bit, “You done?” He asked gazing down at her with adoration.

“Can you still see without your headset?” she asked surprised at the damage and how well it had healed.

“Yeah, just…” he paused for a second as she dropped her hand and leaned away from him again, “I mean, you can probably guess how corneal lacerations work.“

For some reason her face adopted a smug visage as she shot a cocky grin his way, “Educate me.”

A huffed laugh escaped his nose and he watched her closely, observing her body language. She appeared to be enjoying this, “If you want a solid education on how all this works you’d be better off asking Mordin.”

She shrugged, “I think you don’t give yourself enough credit.”

He shook his head, looking down at the deactivated headset in his hands, “You know how lacerations work, I was just lucky enough to get this one on my eye… It didn’t quite cut all the way through my cornea to the iris, but the doctor told me, in so many words, it was damn close. The fight stopped immediately followed by a rush to the hospital I was hardly aware of, and pretty much straight into surgery. They did a really good job with the repair, but of course it isn’t perfect. I ah-“ he huffed a laugh, “was rewarded with an eye patch and a bunch of medications for quite a while.” He motioned toward her with an open hand and a grin, “If only every hospital had Cerberus tech, they might have been able to repair it completely.”

Curious, she probed, “So, is your vision fuzzy without the headset, or what?”

He closed one eye and looked at her, then the other, then back again, “I mean, yeah, but that isn’t the main issue.”

That goofy grin crept back on to her face, but he wasn’t quite sure what to make of it so he continued, “The cornea is responsible for... agh, I think it’s something like 70 percent of the eye's ability to focus light onto the retina. Now, consider that mine was sliced just below the pupil. Although it's mostly healed, there's always going to be a few discrepancies in how it operates.”

Her wrists were pressed together, fingers curled on either side of her face as she rested her chin in her palms, with an almost adoring look in her eye she simply prompted, “Mm?”

Obliging with a small huff of a laugh, he started slowly, “Mm-As far as I know, all of our eyes work in marginally the same way, with some few differences in tear production and the number of rods and cones in the retina...” He paused wondering if she’d correct him if he said something incorrectly, she looked like she knew about all of this anyway, so why did she need him to say it?

“Anyway, from what I know, our eyes are more similar than they are different. Tears, primarily coat the exterior of the cornea in three separate layers. So… Now, I don't remember the names of the three layers, but there's an inner mucus-like layer that kinda works as a film to help spread the other two layers evenly over the eye.” He held his hands up using them like illustrating points, “The middle is a more aqueous version of that that coats the rest of the cornea and the eyelids, then the outer most layer is more of an oily substance, making sure the rest doesn't evaporate too quickly.” He paused, dropping his hands and glancing at her somewhat abashedly, “So, the long and the short of this... have you ever been so dehydrated that you have to blink several times to see properly? That’s the best way I could think to describe it. Without this thing,” He said lifting the headset, “there’s that slight fuzzy and tired feeling, _constantly_. It's not painful, but you know things aren’t _quite_ how they’re supposed to be.”

Holding the headset fondly in both hands, he gazed down at it, a calm kind of sadness resting on the back of his neck and cascading over his shoulders as he next spoke, “The ah-... my mother gave this to me-” He started raising it briefly in indication and looked up at her with a subtle frustrated glance up and to the side, “-despite my dad's protests.” He stared up thinking for a moment, “Must have been a few years after this incident.” He said motioning toward his eye, “My eye had, honestly by some _miracle_ , recovered enough to see decently at this point, but she said an old salarian STG friend of hers had been working on this design for me when I was ready to use it.”

Shepard’s eyes lit up a little from their previous affectionate expression, “Was it Mordin?!” She whispered excitedly.

He uttered a small laugh and shrugged, “I have no idea. Although, he seems to have his hands in a lot of strange projects. So, I guess it’s possible.” With another casual shrug he continued, “Thankfully, the laceration was just below my pupil, so it doesn't cross directly into my vision, but it still plays a part in _reliable_ vision. Which, considering my skillsets as a sniper, I’m sure you can understand why that’s a bit of a problem.” With a momentary pause, he swallowed before continuing, “Also, the… well the reason I started explaining all of this with talking about my mom…” He lifted the headset slightly, “The frame of it was hers. She had her own modified since… well she knew she couldn’t use it anymore.”

Curious, she laid her forearms down on her knees and tilted her head at him a bit, “I can understand using it for several years, but with how much technology has improved… and I don’t mean this to be rude I’m just curious. Why haven’t you done something like an implant or contacts? Something less bulky?”

His eyes widened as he reattached the headset to the side of his head, the dim blue light once again illuminating his face, “Mm, I’m _sorry_ , do contacts tell the time or _play music_ while you're gunning down Husks?” He teased, “ _Yeah_ , _didn't think so_.” With a momentary pause he added, “I’m sure you can guess why I still use it. _Sentiment_ really… it’s pretty much the only thing I’ve got left of her other than memories.”

She nodded, attempting to stifle the involuntary yawn that arose from her chest. Closing her eyes tightly, she blinked heavily before looking at him again, “I’m glad you’ve still got that part of her legacy with you. And… thanks for telling me.” She said with an amiable grin.

Standing, he grabbed her water bottle, before offering her a hand to stand up from the short crate. She grasped his wrist and he gently hauled her to her feet. To his surprise, she didn’t let go as she stood. Instead she gently pivoted her hand to rest in his, interlocking her fingers with his. Glancing up at him, she offered an anxious expression wondering if he would rather _not_ be doing this, but the gentle adoring grin in his eyes immediately softened her own expression, and her eyes squinted happily as she chewed the inside of her cheek. He couldn’t imagine what the scar tissue on the inside of her cheek looked like. She’d make that face when she was thinking intently, when she was nervous, happy, distraught… There were obviously worse habits.

Stepping back in the elevator together, still hand-in-hand she huffed a laugh, “We covered a lot of topics in the last hour and a half.”

He nodded in agreement as the doors slid open on the crew deck, “In the last hour and a half, you lead me through all the steps of grieving and other… more…” His brain faulted again, unsure how he wanted to finish that sentence. “Thank you, Shepard.” He finally said releasing her hand and stepping out of the elevator, turning around to face her.

She gazed at him with admiration and adoration, “Thank _you_ , Garrus. Like I said... I couldn’t do this without you.” She returned as the doors closed between them.

He had no idea what she would be thanking him for, but as he made his way quietly toward the main battery, he couldn’t wipe the peaceful grin off his face.


	21. 21. September, Shepard, Thane, Garrus

 

[2185, Sol System month of “September”; Normandy SR-2]

 

 

“I don’t like him _any more_ than _you_ do, but The Illusive Man’s voice is _aesthetic_.” Kasumi said knocking back the remainder of her glass.

“I knowww.” Shepard said with distaste as she poured some more into her own.

Tali sipped on a glass of water between alcoholic mixtures, “What’s it sound like?”

Shepard turned to look at her with a groggy expression, “You’ll have t’ come with me-… next time I _talk to him_.” Shepard said raising the bottle in the air, “It’s like… okay, alright, are you listening? This is important…” Shepard said tilting her head back and staring blankly at the ceiling, “People’s voices _in-their-mouths_ are different. You know?”

Tali and Kasumi both nodded in fervent agreement as she continued, “Some people you hear thissound from - like their voice is higher up in their skull, nose, whatever, the-the _Volus_ speak from their _cheeks_ …” she said nodding at her own words, “then other people it’s more like it’s from their _chest_.” She emphasized by pounding her chest with her free hand, “Then you’ve got the Illusive man that speaks from his chest but the words don’t rumble like that’s where they stop. They’re chest-deep, then they hit off the top of his mouth before the words finish in his teeth instead of… you know – _normal_ , offthe _tongue_. It’s-“ A stifled hiccupping belch interrupted her, “annoying… _soothing_.” 

All three very sloshed women nodded their heads in perfect understanding of the scenario.

“ohoh, what about Anderson?” Tali asked slowly, “Describe his voice! _I think_ of it like a comfortable… _chair_ when you haven’t sat down in a really long time. It’s just like-reass….uring, and ‘I’m here for you’.”

Shepard nodded emphatically, “Dad-nerdson voice comeoutof the _chest_ -“ she said using her hand as an illustrating point, “before it like… _bounces_ around in his th-roat, blending it up until it’s all smooth and then it just-“ she tilted her head back and stuck her tongue out to emphasize her next point before saying, “ _slides_ off the tongue.”

“Uugh.” Shepard commented to the air. “Why are we _drunk_?” she asked looking down at her lap as she sat cross legged on the couch.

Kasumi used her glass to point at Shepard, “Morinth is dead and Tali’s no longer treasonous because you yelled at yet another Council until they did what you wanted.”

Shepard nodded, “You got- _tha_ right.” She said tipping back her glass.

Tali groaned blinking at the view outside Kasumi’s window, “We’ve been nothing but trouble for the whole galaxy since we made the _geth_.”

Kasumi giggled and agreed, “Yeah… but I who _hasn’t_. The salarians, krogans, turians… those three are a bundle-deal, the asari are… the asari, the vorcha are _vorcha_ , Elcor and volus are the teddy-bears, then the batarians are just… ugh.”

“Shhhhh.” Tali hushed her, “Garrus had a batarian on his team and you know how sensitive that issue is.” Her logic completely missing the other races who were once part of his crew… and the fact everyone else was probably sound asleep so Garrus wouldn’t be over-hearing this conversation.

Kasumi shook her head, “No. He’s _fine_ now. He’s-“ she stared down at the bottom of her glass for a moment, “got _Shepard_.”

Shepard tilted her head, glaring at Kasumi with a bleary eyed expression, “Nobody’s got me. I’m here for _all of you_ -“ she said before involuntarily falling over onto Tali’s lap in drowsiness. “Lay down. You need sleep.” She said, setting her glass down on the floor and motioning to Kasumi with a circling hand mid-air.

“You wiiish!” Kasumi said raising both hands in the air pointing down at Shepard.

Shepard suddenly sat upright again, pushing off of Tali’s knee to hold herself up, “Tali! I forgot to tell you… I’ve been wanting to tell you this for like _months_ now…” With one arm outstretched like she was motioning to the world she grinned and said, “I’m so - proud ofyou. You’ve been through a lot and you’ve-done an amazing things. And the Normandy couldn’t be _vas Normandy_ without you.”

Tali made a little whining noise and reached out to hug her, “ _Shepard_. You’re the real vas Normandy.”

Kasumi chuckled, “I have no clue what you just said- but it sounds ridiculous.” She said, sliding down a bit further on the couch and resting her head on the arm rest, hood now covering her face more than usual, “ _vas Normandy to you too._ ”

“Who was the driver?” Shepard asked looking at them, “It better not be me.”

Raising a hand and wagging her finger back and forth Kasumi commented, “The only driver _you_ need, Shepard is the turian down the hall.” She finished as she pointed toward her door.

“Shut uuuup.” Shepard said with a groaning tone.

Tali pawed her hand at Shepard’s shoulder, “You’re going to get _married_ and have _kids_ and then you can come visit auntie Tali on Rannoch.”

Shepard shook her head and made a little ‘psh’ sound, “Garrus deserves better.” She said staring straight at Tali.

Kasumi slapped her hands down on her thighs, startling the other two women, “How _dare_ you.” Kasumi said, refusing to sit up, or move the hood from her face, “You and Garrus are _made for each other_.” She emphasized by pointing forcefully at Shepard with one hand, “and I _refuse_ to back _any other ship_ this hard.” She finished pulling at the rim of her hood over her entire face, voice now muffled by the fabric, “So many pictures. So perfect.”

Tali snorted, “Kasumi’s obsessed.”

“Mmmmhm.” She admitted, releasing her hood, “I’m making a shrine.”

Shepard snorted a laugh, “Did you hid-it in the vennts or something?”

“Yeahhhhh.” Kasumi admitted with a sigh in her voice. “It’s a flip book. Just… actual prints, one after the other.” She said making a flipping motion with one hand, “I might use it as blackmail if you’re _stupid-balls_ and don’t get _married_.”

With a groan, Tali added, “ _Gross_. It’d be so cute. Do it.”

Kasumi snorted, “You won’t.” She said playfully trolling.

“I might.” Shepard warned.

Nodding her head Kasumi continued, “I know. You want it, and _I have **proof**_.” She said pointing over at the vent she was hiding the photo album in.

All three of them fell into silence, Kasumi staring at the inside of her hood as Tali and Shepard looked out the window, “Tali…” Shepard whispered, “I _really_ want you to hook up with Kal'Reegar.”

She snorted a laugh, “I never would have thought it of you, Shepard.”

“I’m not… not telling you what to do, but he’s respectful, tough as nails, insightful, great voice. I know… -absolutely _nothing else_ about him but I already _love it_ and… you s-should _see_ his body language when you’re around.” She leaned over slightly, pressing her shoulder against Tali’s, “Did you notice when we were at the Migrant Fleet?”

She nodded, “Yeah…” she attempted to stifle a yawn and failed, “Kasumi? Can we sleep here tonight?”

A distant, “Mm.” replied from within the dark hood.

“Thanks.” Tali reached forward and patted Shepard on the side of her face, “Good night, Shepard.”

 

\--- ---

 

[2185, Sol System month of “September”; Citadel]

 

 

“I don’t need your help!”

 

Shepard had survived thousands, possibly millions of bullets in her two lifetimes, several thresher maws, bureaucracy, rachni, krogan, Sovereign, Saren, geth… The myriad of fights she’d been a part of, all of them leaving her scarred and worn, but none stung like the lifetime of war she’d endured with her mother. Two strong headed woman, probably more similar than they were different, existing for decades with one another in turmoil.

Screams, swears, curses… _hate_ … the years of forcing herself to love someone despite the pain, for the sake of _any semblance_ of peace.

Her mother was the sole reason she never wanted to have children. No child should have to fight for room to _breathe freely_ in their own home. The anxiety, depression, and habits of aggression instilled in her from the moment she was born, all the yelling from her mother reminding her how supportive she’d always been, all the time she’d invested in her daughter’s success, and how she apparently didn’t _appreciate_ her mother’s efforts. The speeches she’d heard about every problem between them always somehow being related to her ungratefulness and animosity for “undeserved” reasons… The _years_ that tore her apart when _all_ she sought was peace.

 

 

With a furious expression, Shepard pulled the trigger, shattering the lamp next to Kolyat’s head.

 

 

_You don’t realize what you could miss in a father who **understands** he was wrong. Don’t lose this, Kolyat._

 

 

“What the hell?” He called out, glaring at Shepard.

Before the words even fully escaped his mouth, Shepard had the young drell on the ground in an arm bar, his pistol now out of reach.

 

 

 

Thane was the first example Shepard had ever seen of a parent _genuinely_ and _whole heartedly_ trying to right his past wrongs with his son. Thane saw the error of his own ways and he desired to at least attempt restoration between the two of them by _admitting_ he was the main reason for his son’s inner mayhem.

When Thane first told Shepard about his situation with family, leaving his son, disappearing after his wife’s death… she’d been disappointed but not surprised; however, some of what he’d said had stuck in her mind.

“I hoped he would find his own way. If he hated me, so be it. He would not have shared the path of sin.”

“I would like your help to stop him.”

“It doesn’t seem right… my name – he should not respect it.”

 

Thane had justified his profession in earlier conversations, but when he spoke of Kolyat, he said, for the first time, that he led a dangerous life that he would never wish upon his son. Thane fully recognized that he was a source of toxicity for his son and, although in a dramatic fashion, removed as much of that toxicity from his son’s life as possible. Later when he’d discussed the situation Kolyat had enveloped himself in, Thane was focused on ensuring his son never had to endure the repercussions of that decision as it would inevitably become a lifestyle of turmoil. He was self-aware, understanding, determined to minimize the suffering in his own son’s life without blaming it on him.

 

Hannah was blind to the issues she created, the toxicity that had clouded their time together in their younger years… She was never intentionally cruel and the love she had for her daughter was, at times, nearly blinding, but loving someone else by default, even when coupled with support _for the tasks she approved of,_ may never correspond with a _healthy relationship_.

Thane Krios stood before Shepard only a day ago, admitting to someone he’d known for only a few months that he recognized he was the leading cause for the problem his son now faced and he wished to ensure from that point on Kolyat pursued his own future with a clear mind instead of living plagued by painful memories.

 

“Talid, get the hell out of here.” Shepard commanded the Turian previously held captive.

Commander Bailey shook his head before ordering, “Take the boy into custody.”

“You son of a bitch.” Kolyat hissed at the captain.

Shepard stepped away from Kolyat letting him stand, but held a hand out to stop the C-Sec officer approaching to arrest him, her palm planting solidly on the turian’s chest, “Thane came hundreds of lightyears to talk to his son. C-Sec can give them five minutes…” She stared up at the officer from under her brow before turning to look at Captain Bailey and questioning forcefully, “Can't they?” 

Nodding, Bailey agreed and Thane stepped forward, as Shepard and the officers partially retreated toward the door. Near-silence filled the room as the officer’s flashing lights outside the apartment illuminated the faces of everyone in the room except for Kolyat who now stood with arms crossed, glaring down at his father. To Shepard’s surprise as Thane finally spoke, Kolyat appeared to be completely unaware of the cause for his mother’s death and Thane’s reaction to it.

 

Silence is never one-dimensional. So many different kinds of silence… all accompanied with different emotions and sensations. The first present in _that_ room so far had been a fearful pained silence, filled with confusion, anger, regret, desire for forgiveness. The kind that stuck to the chest, jaw, and the back of skull. The second was a stunned silence, pain, guilt, warmth, repentance, a hope for restoration. A kind that seized the throat, pinched the lower back, and compressed the ribcage.

 

“Kolyat, I've taken many bad things out of the world. You were the only good thing I ever added to it.”

 

As Thane finished his sentence, a completely different silence then filled the room like fingers running down the spine and a hand at the throat. No one was able to say anything for a moment, but Shepard was very thankful for the full headset she wore to help hide the pain in her eyes.

 

 

_Do not cry… you did enough of that earlier this week._

 

 

Finally, Bailey stepped forward now understanding the gravity of the situation between the two drell in the room, “This isn’t the kind of conversation you should be having in front of strangers. Boys! Take Kolyat and his father back to the precinct, give them a room and as much time as they need.”

Turning to Shepard, Bailey nodded toward her, “Come on, I’ll give you a lift.”

 

 

When the hood of the car closed overhead, Shepard said quietly, “It was kind of you to allow Thane to continue speaking with Kolyat privately.”

Bailey nodded toward her without taking his eyes off the driving space before them, “Eh… surely you don’t think he’s the only father who’s screwed up raising his kid.”

Shepard watched the side of Bailey’s face for a moment before reorienting her view to the passing Citadel outside the window. She wanted to press, ask Bailey what had happened, to hear from yet another parent who realized they were in the wrong. Both Thane and Bailey were hard asses, resolute, goal-oriented, skilled at their jobs, and yet when it came to family they were so different from Hannah Shepard. They were soft-hearted and willing to allow some semblance of individual identity and _freedom_ without trying to guilt their children into believing everything was their fault.

There was a strange kind of gentleness in them that was always connected with the most broken people. Most of the people in her squad had this kind of hidden tenderness. Shepard did as well, just… not yet towards _family_. Even after death, she couldn’t press past some of the things that had haunted her from her youth. Maybe someday, if she could ever trust someone enough to really consider starting a family… Whomever ended up being her partner would probably have to help her combat the dread of being part of a family again. She had no idea what kind of person that would take, but it probably wouldn’t be easy on either of them.

 

 

Captain Bailey was once again situated at his desk. Shepard leaned against the door frame of the small incarceration port, arms crossed, gaze burning a hole in the floor, and one side of her mouth was pinched as she chewed the inside of her cheek.

Garrus had been wandering around the plaza outside while they waited for Thane to finish speaking with Kolyat. Rounding the corner, his gaze immediately landing on Shepard’s pensive form, amused to see her once again chewing the inside of her cheek in deep thought. If she was working on something mentally he didn’t want to interrupt her, but as he approached, her gaze snapped to him and she offered a small smile so he figured he was in the clear to speak without interrupting her, “Okay… I have to know… is Ramen _really_ a delicacy back on Earth?”

Shepard snorted and the brooding expression dissipated, the tension in her shoulders easing substantially, “No, that’s the most amusing bold-faced lie I’ve heard here. You can try it for yourself with those Reversal tablets if you’d like.”

Giving her a curious expression, he continued the conversation, “How do you think those things work?” He asked nodding for her to join him as he went to sit on a bench.

“Reversal?” she grinned, “I did a decent amount of research on the topic at one point, but I’ve forgotten most of the information.”

Harkening back to her words from a few days ago he grinned and said, “I don’t think you give yourself enough credit… Educate me.” He gazed at her pleasantly as she turned her head to grin wryly at him.

“I see what you did there... Alright,” She started bracing her hands on the bench seat trying to think of where to start, “The terms we use for the chirality of DNA are Dextro and Levo.”

As soon as the words escaped her mouth she furrowed her brow and blinked confused, “You know, sometimes I forget that even though to me, you would say the words Dextro and Levo in reference, to you they’re probably naturally completely different words.”

His gaze shifted from her to the wall across from them also considering this, “Hah… yeah… Translators are _easy_ to forget.”

Shaking her head amused, she continued, “Anyway, both of those terms are from a dead language on Earth, Latin- oh man, I was going to say that Dextro means basically “to the right” and Levo, “to the left” but then my brain realized whatever word it was translated into for you would make that obvious already…” She started, narrowing her eyes in thought before shaking her head, “I’ll try to focus on the chirality discussion and ignore the translator thing for now… So if I remember correctly human DNA is… _levo_. Right?-“

He was about to answer in confirmation but she answered her own question with a rushed, “Yeah! Oh, duh, _you guys_ need the “dextro” foods. Okay, I got this.”

She lifted her head and blankly observed the wall above the door as if visually keeping track of her thoughts as she spoke, “The significance of dextro vs levo foods has been somewhat blown out of proportion for a lot of the races.” She dropped her gaze down and turned to look at him momentarily as she thought aloud, “Most of the sugars we consume, and a bunch of our medications, contain dextro-amino acids, yet are very minimally toxic and consumed on a regular basis. Interestingly enough, it is worth mentioning that while humans can digest dextro sugars, we _can’t_ digest dextro proteins because of the stereochemistry of the substrates required to break both of them down already present in our bodies.” She paused momentarily, trying to think of where she wanted to go from there, “From what I know about how most people’s biology works, turians are still capable of eating most of our foods, but it wouldn’t break down _as well_ and would act similar to lactose intolerance in humans. That being said, quarians, with their naturally suppressed immune systems, would likely go into anaphylactic shock upon ingestion. Thankfully, _whomever_ designed Reversal, assuming Mordin was involved… ensured it worked well for both species.” She grinned amused, turning to look at him somewhat, “’Someone else might have gotten it wrong’ should be a slogan printed on the bottles.” He offered a short laugh, and nodded his head slightly in agreement, but otherwise had nothing to add to the conversation.

 

After a brief pause, a huff of a laugh escaped Shepard’s mouth, “Do you remember that one turian we met upstairs, the grounds keeper who talked about the water purification system?” Garrus nodded in confirmation and she continued, “Some species might actually die, sure, but it also varies from individual to individual. I think the uneducated public has been conditioned to believe any contact to body fluids from another species would kill us all, but with all the published work I’ve read, the cases of death are _relatively_ rare. Allergic reactions might occur in varying degrees from person to person, but most of these can be fairly easily fixed or prevented beforehand with an injection and antihistamines.”

With a tilt of her head, she mentioned, “There are a bunch of theories about why we all developed that way.”

Garrus stretched his arms out along the back of the bench, crossing his legs casually in a 4 position as they both people-watched, “Do you remember any?” He asked casually.

“I only remember one, but it mostly makes sense when you’re talking about those of us who are levo. I’m a bit clueless on how you dextro guys got your start.” She said turning to look at him with a curious expression.

His eye crinkled in a grin, and he glanced at her sidelong, “Tell me anyway.”

Nodding she looked up and inhaled deeply while she thought before starting, “Well… for one, our galaxy has a chiral spin pattern and magnetic orientation.”

He tilted his head understanding where she was going with this point, “Since it’s chiral instead of achiral, wouldn’t that dictate the likelihood for biological heterochirality?” He asked tilting his head to look at her with a thoughtful expression.

Amused, he observed the impressed and attracted expression in Shepard’s eyes as her head turned quickly to look at him as he spoke.

She just smiled at him for a moment, observing him happily before she offered a small embarrassed chuckle, “I don’t know enough about the topic to really _answer_ that question, but you had the same question I did. My best guess, is _that_ chirality is the reason different species here have different alignments to begin with, although, the part I’m admittedly undereducated in, is why our bodies aren’t capable of processing both levo _and_ dextro sugars and proteins. All of our systems seemed to pick one or the other, and I believe, regardless, everyone’s ability to metabolize sugars is always the opposite chirality of the enantiomers required for processing amino acids. Although, from what I’ve read, at a basic level, some of the the chirality of a galaxy’s properties can be explained by the stellar mass already present. So, maybe the difference is linked to our systems’ main star or stars.”

 

Her eyes were narrowed, her expression intense, her shoulders tight, but clearly she was enjoying this. Leaning forward, Shepard rested her elbows on her knees, cupping one hand over the fist of the other and stared intensely at the floor. With an adoring expression, Garrus observed her, glad she was clearly enjoying this conversation more than what she had been thinking about earlier. Even though both mannerisms made her look tense, somehow… he could tell the difference. Sometimes he swore her own body language made it feel like he was watching himself. She was usually a little more serious, her visage more tense than his own, but that was mostly because she _could_ make those expressions more vividly.

 

Sitting back up and leaning back against the bench and his arm, she commented, “You know, the more I think about stuff like this, the more the asari make sense to me.” 

A chuckle escaped his chest before he asked, “Alright… how so?”

“Cross-chiral _reproduction_ is impossible.” She said turning her head to look up at him with a curious expression, “I mean, there are a lot of other things that play into whether or not DNA can actually properly replicate between different species besides just chirality, but that’s why the asari seem to have it right. They don’t _use_ other species DNA to reproduce.” She finished, returning her gaze to the people passing by.

Garrus nodded his head back and forth, “The asari have always been a bit strange to me, but I suppose when you explain it that way, their evolution makes more sense. Why do you suppose then that so many of our races evolved for sexual reproduction instead?”

Her brow furrowed and she laced her fingers on her stomach as she reclined a bit more on the bench, laying her head back on his arm, “Okay, so the asari reproduce through… whatever they really call it. Krogans and Salarians are oviparous, The elcor and volus _probably_ reproduce sexually but I’m not sure I really _want_ to know. The batarians do, so do vorcha… and the quarians, and humans, and since you said “our races” I’m assuming turians do as well?”

His reply was simply a series of short nods in agreement before he said, “So that’s… what, six out of the top nine races.”

“Huh…” She commented thoughtfully, “I guess each system is a bit stingy with its species. As a whole it looks like the galaxy loves diversity, but within each system, that doesn’t seem to be the case.”

“Except, _sort of_ , for humans.” He said with a casual shrug, “Like Mordin said when we were on Tuchanka. Your genetic code is more diverse than the rest of us.”

 

 

 

“Ey-uh… Shepard?” Captain Bailey called out, interrupting their conversation.

Standing in unison, Garrus and Shepard walked back to the officer’s desk, “Are they done?” Shepard asked glancing around the small room looking for Thane.

Bailey shook his head before leaning back in his chair and running a hand over his mouth in chin like he was preparing to say something rather sensitive, “Look… Shepard, I ran some searches through our archives. About ten years back, a bunch of real bad people were killed… like someone was cleaning house. The prime suspect was a drell, but we never caught him.” Bailey’s blue eyes held resolutely with Shepard’s, unwavering, squinting slightly to convey the meaning of what he had just said.

“Are you saying you’ve arrested Thane now too based on suggestive evidence from ten years ago?” Shepard said folding her arms and turning her head slightly sideways, appraising the captain over her cheek.

He shook his head, “Ah… no. Not yet. I thought I should talk to you first.”

Nodding she turned to glance at the door behind her for a moment before turning back to Bailey, “Captain, that was ten years ago… Whomever was responsible likely made a lot of enemies and probably doesn’t exist anymore.”

Huffing a laugh, Bailey nodded, “It’s a possibility. I’ve got nothing to go on besides old reports and random supposed witnesses, so I’ll give your man the benefit of the doubt…”

As they exchanged understanding nods with one another, the door behind them opened and Thane stepped out before approaching.

“How’d it go?” Shepard asked gently.

Gazing blankly at the captain’s desk, he started, “Our problems, a-…” Without looking directly at Shepard, he gazed higher up the wall, “They aren’t something I can fix with a few words, but we’ll keep talking. See what happens.”

Bailey nodded in understanding of his situation before saying politely, “Your boy shot some people. No one I feel sympathy for, but there it is.”

Shepard tilted her head at the captain and defended the positions of both father and son, “I watched the guys he shot shaking down businesses and threatening people.”

With a circled motion of a nod, Bailey looked up at her from beneath his brow, “I understand that, but he can’t just get away with shooting people.” He emphasized by gesturing lightly toward the door Thane had previously emerged from.

Thinking quickly, Shepard commented gesturing towards Bailey with an open hand, “The kid really just wants to make a difference. Give him community service.”

A scoffing laugh emitted from his nose as he leaned back and crossed his arms, “Community service for attempted murder? What jury would agree to that?”

Raising her eyebrows in emphasis, Shepard commented, “None. This would need to stay out of the judiciary, strictly within C-Sec.”

Bailey scrutinized the woman standing before him before glancing at Thane as he stood politely nearby, and then back to Shepard, “I’ll think about it.”

Shepard grinned, she knew she’d won as he stood to shake Thane’s hand and nodded respectfully to the assassin. 


	22. 22. Author Muse: Translators

 

[2185, Sol System month of "<NA>"; <NA LOCATION> | Journal Excerpt: Translators - Author Muse]

 

 

Translators nowadays were implanted into every registered child, regardless of religious, societal, or economic status, once they became old enough to begin speaking. Thankfully, if one ever stopped functioning properly, they were inexpensive to produce, and almost every street had a multi-government-funded shop dedicated to their safe and minimally invasive replacements. Mods for the implants existed, but _none_ were legally recognized. Legally, warrantees on all translator units were required to span the entire lifetime of the user, even species who naturally survived for centuries or millennia.

Everyone lived their natural lives overlooking that they didn’t all actually speak the same language. For all Shepard knew, even the human crew aboard her ship all spoke completely different languages, and she’d never know unless she deactivated her translator.

Some of the very first translators hadn’t worked very well in real-time, could only be attached to the external areas of the ear, and communicated the translation of the speaker to the user, with preposterous latency, via a tiny amplifier. With her limited knowledge of how the translators of the day worked, she mentally attempted to review the basics she’d learned in school.

 

The implanted unit was comprised of permeable filament-like structures molded to the shape of the inner ear, residing just before the tympanic membrane. As soundwaves emanating from the orator collided with and passed through the implanted micro-filaments, the unit would begin its first stage of translation. While the naturally unknown/abstract sounds via the speaker interacted with the several subsequent micro-layers of the implant, before ever reaching the user’s tympanic membrane or species-determined pertinent structure, the correlated noise would be translated into any user-determined but universally recognized language.

As an example, young children are well known for attempting to create their own fantasy-based languages in order to communicate with their friends in secret. To any listener, the sounds spoken by the children using the language they created would not be translated unless certain phrases correlated with a universally-known language.

Sound emulated from the orator would continue to pass through all micro-layers of the implant before ever interacting with the user’s physical inner ear. At each collision with the implant’s micro-strata, different tones of the spoken voice would be processed and translated as the implanted unit broadcast electrical signals to correlating regions of the brain. The amount of time required for a foreign spoken sound to be translated into understandable language for the user coincided with the original near-instantaneous process. Creating, using, and extrapolating electrical signals themselves were the brain’s natural mode of operation regardless of any conscious understanding of the information being processed.

The micro-layers of the implant would significantly and negligibly affect the user’s hearing in two ways:

  1. **Significant:** The user would never hear the originally spoken language unless the implant was _purposefully_ deactivated by the user, which could be done at any time.
  2. **Negligible:** Due to several layered micro-strata using a fraction of a nanometer of space before the user’s ear drum (or species relevant structure), regardless of gender, every voice finally heard by the user would be statistically deeper in pitch. 
    1. **Negligible Explained:** The difference would never be _detectable_ to either the user or the speaker, but any structure causing the spoken waveform to slow down, thus expanding the original frequency and amplitude of the sound, before reaching the innermost ear, would alter its original spoken sound in miniscule magnitudes.



The implant itself was a translator capable of processing extraneous spoken information and altering the correlating code sent to the brain in nanoseconds. The hardware already existed (i.e. brain and ear), and the original software was naturally established (i.e. the brain’s natural ability to process and interpret electrical signals). In order for the foreign spoken noises to be translated _something_ needed to intercept the incoming sound waves, process them, and send the brain the corresponding signals in the user’s native language.

In short, as sounds came in contact with the micro-strata of the implanted translator, it would proceed to construe the original soundwaves. The subsequent translation resulted in a mutation of the electrical impulses that would have corresponded with the sentence _initially_ spoken. In its place, the signals processed by the brain would mirror the user's typical vocabulary. The ending consequence resulting in the user "naturally" hearing the _original_ soundwaves in _their_ native language.


	23. 23. October, Alpha Relay, Garrus, Shepard

[2185, Sol System month of “October”; Normandy SR-2]

 

 

Armor clad feet paced slowly, methodically, each impact of a foot soon followed by the scrape of another step. His heartbeat was irregular, and he was having difficulty focusing on his work, otherwise he felt mostly normal. A deep breath escaped his mouth as he stopped pacing and rested his hands on the console, staring at the screen before him. Surely _someone_ aboard this ship knew _something_?

No… Shepard had mentioned she was doing a stealth rescue mission as a favor for Admiral Hackett.

“Rescue mission…” He said aloud before shaking his head, “two days and no contact. Captured?” He’d run through all the possibilities he could think of multiple times and none of them were reassuring, “EDI?”

“Yes, Archangel?”

“Do you-“ The air in his chest was forced out in one long sigh as he closed his eyes and shook his head, “EDI, please… don’t call me Archangel.”

“What would you like me to call you?”

“ _Garrus_ … Just- EDI do you have access to Shepard’s vital signs?” He asked looking up at the ceiling.

“I am not at liberty to discuss that information with anyone other than Dr. Chakwas.”

“Do you _have_ access to them?” He asked fully intending to try and battle with EDI for the live-feed, but as soon as his question finished the console before him flickered and a new screen took its place.

 

A heart monitor showed on his screen and his jaw flexed in both relief and concern. She was alive, but her heart was exhibiting a state of bradycardia. 50 bpm… Sedated?

 

“-I am not at liberty to _discuss_ that information, Garrus.”

“No… of course not.” He said with a relieved expression as he slowly dropped toward the floor until he was sitting on his heels in front of the console, elbows braced on the edge, hands laid atop his crest in relief.

 

 

_She’s alive_

 

 

* _bmm, bmm, bmm_ *

 

In response to the pounding at the door, Garrus lifted his hands off his head and stood to unlock it, “Tali?”

“I haven’t been able to get any work done today.” She said crossing her arms before reaching up with one hand putting it over her mask in a tired gesture.

Motioning her in the room he gestured for her to be quiet before he leaned against the console and nodded backwards at it, “I haven’t either. I was hoping EDI had some information on how Shepard was doing, but I wasn’t able to get anything out of her.”

Tali observed the screen behind him for a moment before her hands raised excitedly in the air several inches from either side of her head, but she remained silent, understanding why Garrus was being quiet about the information.

Nodding in agreement, Garrus shared a relieved moment of silence with Tali, “Do you have any idea what she’s been up to?” she asked leaning against the right side of the console as he turned to face her.

“Stealth mission. All she told me was that she had to go alone due to the sensitive nature of the mission, but in short her main objective was to locate a woman who had access to _Reaper_ technology.”

Nodding thoughtfully, she lifted a hand in a conversational gesture, “And this was from Admiral Hackett with the Alliance, right? Not the Illusive Man.”

He nodded, “That’s what she said.”

Tali and Garrus both glanced in unison at the monitor next to them as the heart beat monitor began to flicker at a faster rate. Pointedly, they exchanged glances before both crowding around the display to watch as Shepard’s heartrate steadily climbed until she hit a heartbeat consistent with fast movements.

“Hey, maybe Joker’s heard something from her…” Tali suggested as casually as she could despite her excitement to see Shepard active again.

Nodding, the two of them immediately left the room, Garrus locking the door behind him, as they powerwalked to the elevator.

 

 

Joker’s seat turned around as the fast moving footsteps of two crew members approached him, “Uh… hey guys. Everything alright?”

“We were hoping you’d… heard something from Shepard?” Tali said wringing her hands.

A sigh escaped his mouth as he took his cap off, running a hand through his hair before resituating it, “Not yet… You guys asking _now_ for any particular reason?”

With a quick cutting motion back and forth across his neck to notify Joker to not pursue that line of questioning Garrus commented, “Just… a hunch.”

“Riiight.” He said turning back around, “Well, feel free to just… hang out here if it makes you feel better.”

Exchanging glances, both Garrus and Tali promptly sat down on the floor on either side of the pilot’s bay.

“Hey, uh, Tali…” Joker started quietly, “I’m really glad the whole _treason_ thing worked out for you. It would have been shitty if the Normandy became like a _punishment_ for you or something because of a bunch of bickering old people couldn’t get their war-plans organized in the right files.”

“Yeah, me too, Joker. Thanks.” She replied a bit nervously.

 

 

Several minutes later Tali asked, “So… how did they repair your-“ She started indicating the side of her mask, “face?”

Reaching up, Garrus placed his hand on the gauze before lowering it again, “In the report Dr. Chakwas sent me when I was freed from the med bay, she mentioned the surface is heavily artificially grafted now, but thankfully she, Mordin, and Cerberus cybernetics were able to synthesize the grafts with the _exact_ composites to my own dermal plating, so… within a few more months it should look somewhat whole again… despite all the scarring." Pausing for a moment he looked away from her before gazing at her with a semi-apologetic expression, "Dr. Chakwas mentioned Shepard was carrying pieces of my face in her hands when they finally picked us up and rushed us on board.” He genuinely wished he could see Tali’s face right now, but her shoulders were hunched and her arms were crossed over her torso, clearly uncomfortable, so he fell silent, dialing down the gory details.  

With an uneasy tone, Tali questioned, “Have you taken the gauze off to look at the damage yourself?”

He shook his head, “No, I report to Dr. Chakwas every couple of days and she ensures everything is holding together, and to keep me updated on medications and physical therapy.”

“Physical therapy?” Joker retorted amused over his shoulder.

Garrus offered a huff of a laugh, “Yeah… for the most part talking is enough, but every once in a while she’ll make me open my mouth as wide as I can for several seconds before slowly closing it again. In case you’re wondering, no… it’s not pleasant.”

“Can I see?” Joker quipped, turning his chair around to smirk at the turian seated on the floor.

“ _No_.” Garrus said with a jokingly annoyed expression.

 

Curious, Tali turned her head to look at Joker, “What about you?” Tali asked, “What happened to you after the SSV crashed?”

With a dismissive ‘pf’ sound he shook his head, “Reassigned. I got a better deal than I’d thought I would though. The Alliance needed extra pilots to fill fighters after all the troubles with Sovereign.”

Tali tilted her head, “You kept flying with the Alliance, but then willingly signed up as part of the Lazarus project with Cerberus?”

“Yeah, basically. I heard what they were trying to do and who else could possibly be better qualified to fly her?” Jeff commented, raising his arms in the air in an arc.

When both seated aliens simply stared at him with an incredulous air, he paused, processing why, and then commented, “and of course, because… Shepard was coming back too. The whole, _resurrecting Shepard_ was the… important part.” He said slowly turning his chair back round .

Garrus nodded at the quarian seated in front of him, “What about you? Didn’t see you after the first day we got back to the Citadel.”

Tali put a hand to her mask and shook her head, “I’ve had so many name changes in the last year. When you met me I was Tali’Zorah nar Rayya. Thanks to Shepard, I completed my pilgrimage and returned to the Migrant Fleet where I was welcomed as an official adult. I then worked my way up in the fleet until I earned my own research vessel and became Tali’Zorah vas Neema. I’d secured a solid place in Quarian society, but then Shepard was alive and… well, you know the rest.”

Without turning around again Joker asked, “Are you alright with the vas Normandy thing now?”

“I’m confident that someday this ship will no longer be Cerberus’s.” Tali started, “When that day comes I will be proud to be vas Normandy… Until then, the only reason I have any care for the title is because Shepard is its Commander.”

 

 

“ _Shepard to **Normandy!** Joker, do you read me?_”

 

 

Leaning forward in his chair, Jeff heard the scrambling feet of the turian and quarian behind him as they crowded his seat, “Commander! We’re on our way! Is everything alright?” He asked, hands already flying across the controls.

 

 _No reply_.

 

Turning his head slightly to glance at Tali before shaking his head confused, he pressed, “ _Commander_ , do you read me?” He questioned again as he whipped the ship around and EDI gave him the coordinates.

 

“ **Commander?!** ” Joker yelled again, but no reply.

 

 

“EDI, what the hell-?” Joker asked as he stared at the massive rock propelling itself towards the nearest relay.

“It appears Shepard has designated the nearest asteroid on a collision course with the relay in this system.”

“What?!” Tali screeched, “That mass relay is basically a giant compressed neutron star. If that asteroid hits it, this whole system will be destroyed!”

“EDI??” Joker asked hurriedly.

“We will need to evacuate this system as soon as possible or the Normandy will be consumed in the blast.”

With gritted teeth, Joker called out upon approach, “Commander! Normandy inbound for pickup!”

 

“Roger that.” Her voice once again filling the cockpit, Garrus and Tali relaxing visibly to hear her confirming message despite the chaos they were flying towards.

“Hurry, Commander!” Joker called out in anxiously.

 

 

 

Shepard’s feet could be heard running up the hallway toward the cockpit and as she approached, Garrus and Tali made sure to stay out of her way as she practically slid across the floor and clawed the sides of Joker's seat, “Get us the hell out of here, Joker!” She indicated forcefully toward the relay.

“Yeah, no kidding.” He said gritting his teeth and pivoting toward the relay as quickly as possible.

As the relay caught hold of the Normandy and propelled it forward and out of the system, Shepard turned around and sprinted back into the CIC, clambering toward the galaxy map as Tali and Garrus followed hot on her heels.

 

 

Ripples of data appeared on the galaxy map as the explosion continued to spread until the entire system was consumed.

The crew of the Normandy in the immediate vicinity who were aware of the situation were all completely still. Every eye fixated on the galaxy map where the entire Batarian system had existed moments ago.

“Commander, I recommend immediate medical attention.” EDI’s voice gently filled the silence.

Slamming her palm against the railing of the galaxy map Shepard whirled around and took off her helmet, pressing it forcefully between her hands as if trying to shatter it. Garrus and Tali stood next to one another, both filled with questions and very concerned about the situation and Shepard’s health, but both biting their tongues to refrain from speaking. Resigning as the anger flowed out of her, only to be consumed by sadness, Shepard lightly held the sides of the helmet with only three fingers as she moved to set it on the floor before her. 

Shepard’s helmet made a solid ‘tdack’ sound on the floor as she set it down before covering the back of her head with her hands, and laying her chest on her thighs with her feet flat on the floor. White text numbers on an orange screen burned themselves into her veins, her head and heart pounding with the weight of what she’d just done.

 

 

_I tried to warn them – there wasn’t enough time – only ships already out of the system would have survived – this isn’t my fault – it was your decision - three hundred four thousand nine hundred forty two – it **had to be done** – for the rest of the galaxy it had to be done… _

_THEY’RE COMING_

 

A chill no one other than Shepard quite understood filled the entire room with a sense of foreboding. Her comrades stood by her side, uncertain of how to offer aid.

 

_It had to be done. If you stop to dwell on this now it will tear you apart and you won’t be able to help anyone else – you gave trillions of other lives **time**. Get up…..._

 

_Shepard. **Get. Up.**_

 

 

 

Shepard took a deep breath, her gaze fixated on the floor before her, staring through it rather than at it. Wordlessly she rose to her feet and walked toward the elevator, leaving her helmet where it lay on the ground as Garrus and Tali joined her, all three riding down to the Crew Deck in silence.

When the doors slid open, Shepard slowly walked toward the med bay where Dr. Chakwas stood with a worried motherly expression in the doorway.

“You’ve gotten yourself wrapped up in more visions.” Dr. Chakwas said matter-of-fact as the doors slid closed behind them.

 

 

_Does she know what just happened?_

 

 

Blinking slowly in exhaustion and running a hand through her helmet-tousled hair, Shepard asked, “How can you tell?”

Looking down at her tablet as the two of them entered the med bay Karin commented, “Your heartrate in a resting state is much higher than it should be… Then that look in your eye says you’re ready for your next mission, but the rest of your body is telling me you need food, water, and several hours of sleep.”

Shaking her head, Shepard stared at the cot next to her, “Maybe later. I don’t think I’d be able to sleep right now.”

Dr. Chakwas narrowed her eyes slightly at the Commander and said, “Then go grab something to eat and talk to your friends until you’re tired. They’re worried about you.”

Shepard hopped up onto the cot, bracing her hands against the side, and keeping her vision trained on the floor, but once again gazing through it felt easier, “Unless I’m handing in a report, or someone higher up in the chain walks in here, I’d rather not talk casually about the _weather_.” She retorted a bit unnecessarily defensively.

“Commander.” Dr. Chakwas started slowly, “No one aboard this ship questions whether you made that call for the right reasons. We may not know why, and you may never tell us, but there was a reason, and we all trust you did what was necessary.”

 

 

_Of course she knows._

 

 

With a sigh, Shepard looked up at the doctor and commented morosely, “Blind trust is no better than willful ignorance.”

Dr. Chakwas reached out and took hold of one of Shepard’s hands between both of hers, “Commander… We are all here to support you because you’ve given us reason after reason after reason to trust your decisions…”

Shepard was already in a rather emotional frame of mind and in response to Karin’s kind words Shepard’s eyes brimmed with tears, but she refused to let them overflow. Looking quickly away from her, Shepard gazed at the ceiling and clenched her teeth as she took a deep breath.

Patting Shepard’s hand gently once, Dr. Chakwas then raised her chin looking the commander pointedly in the eye with a determined motherly expression, “Now… as your doctor… Commander, please try to get some rest. Eat and drink, sit with someone you're comfortable with for a while so you’re not _alone_ with your thoughts. Alright?”

A huffed laugh escaped Shepard’s nose, “Was that as my doctor or as the Normandy’s adopting mother?”

Chakwas grinned gently at her as an answer to her question.

Nodding slowly, Shepard offered a small grin and thanked her, “I’ll try to eat something.”

Releasing her hand, Dr. Chakwas nodded and stepped to the side as Shepard slid off the cot, making her way to the kitchen. Nothing in the cabinet sounded appealing. Except, maybe, for rice with some of the packaged cheese in the fridge, some cayenne pepper, garlic, salt…  Ignoring the mocking voice in her head she set about making some comfort food before sitting down at the table, spoon in hand, eating it straight out of the pot. Even the forty minutes she spent waiting on the rice was time dedicated wholly to rationalizing what she'd just done to the Batarians. 

 

 

_They'll want war... Admiral, I'm so sorry. It had to be done._

 

 

She knew she wouldn’t be very hungry and naturally she’d made more than she could eat in one sitting. Part of her wanted to just slap a pot holder in the fridge and slide the whole pot on top, but with a resigned expression, she pulled out a smaller container and dumped the rest in before sealing it and sliding it in an empty spot on a fridge shelf. As the door of the fridge closed, Shepard let her arms hang limp as she leaned her forehead against the freezer and groaned audibly. Pulling back, she attempted to think of something else to do, but as she considered her options, her legs walked her closer and closer to the main battery doors until they opened and she found Garrus standing in his normal spot.

He turned around and tilted his head in sympathy at her before closing the doors behind her, “Kasumi isn't here.” He said with an attempt at a comforting joke as he opened his arms in the offer of a hug.

Shepard offered a weak smile as she stepped forward and curled into one side of his body to work around the front ridge on his armor. Looking down at her gently, one hand on her waist, the other laying lightly on her shoulder, in return she wrapped one arm around his back, curling the other toward her chin.

After a moment he offered quietly, “I don't know all of what happened down there, but it clearly wasn’t easy on you.”

With a quiet sigh she added, gazing blankly at the wall across the room, “and all it did was _postpone_ the reaper invasion.” She whispered.

An unexpected jolt of panic ran down his spine at her words.

 

_Postpone? She was rushed…  The reapers were **here**? She stopped their arrival last minute… that’s why she couldn’t warn the Batarians. _

 

 

His mind was spinning a bit, gaze harshly searching the door in front of him for answers, “How close were we?” He asked wondering if she knew the exact time of the potential destruction of the galaxy. A rare privilege. 

Another tense sigh escaped her chest as she then pulled away from him and he let her go. Running her hands through her hair for a second, she stopped with both hands still on top of her head as she looked up at him.

The haunted look in her eyes was not unfamiliar to him, but her words made him shift uncomfortably, “Minutes… _Minutes,_ Garrus.”

Letting her arms fall to her sides with a smack against the armor she hadn’t yet taken off, she shook her head, “I could have gotten there sooner, but they had a _reaper artifact_.” She said raising her hands in front of her face like brackets to emphasize the words, “I don’t know how or why but it knocked me unconscious. When I woke up, the woman in the room with me said the sedatives were wearing off too quickly.” She waved one hand dismissively, “I guess they wanted to keep me alive, but out of their way long enough to see the reaper invasion.”

His eyes were narrowed slightly, his chin dipped, head tilted marginally to the side in compassionate understanding, “Indoctrinated?” He asked simply.

Placing her hands on her hips and looking away from him, chewing the inside of her cheek she nodded before returning his gaze, “All of them... but it became obvious the closer they got to the artifact.” She paused, turning her head and upper body to look behind her, before stepping backwards to sit down on one of the crates. With a sigh she leaned forward, and rested her forearms on her knees. Shaking her head, she looked up at him again with a furrowed brow, “Three hundred thousand Batarians _dead_ to buy the rest of us a few months… _maybe_ a year longer. They’re coming, Garrus and they are hell bent on wiping every last one of us out.”

With a sympathetic grin he leaned against the console and reached up, holding on to the front ridge of his armor, “ _We_ know the reapers are coming, Shepard. If they came today we’d all be dead. You made sure that didn’t happen.”

Pulling her bottom lip into her mouth, she lightly bit down on it as she thought for a moment, “Was this a prideful decision?” She asked apprehensively.

Confused, he looked down at her with a perplexed expression as he made his way over and sat next to her on the crate, “How… would this have been even remotely prideful on your part?”

A sigh escaped her mouth as she arched her shoulders and dropped her head to her chest for a moment, “I have this one thought that consumes me every time I think about the reapers and the Collectors, this erroneous idea that, “We can stop them _if_ …..”” She motioned forward with one hand to indicate the end of her sentence was a fill in the blank opportunity, “In this case it was _if we have more time_." she paused before gesturing forward in a frustrated manner with both hands, "I just destroyed over three hundred thousand lives for the hope that we’ll _have more time_ … and we’ll figure out how to stop them by then.”

He remained silent processing the concept she’d formed in her brain for a moment before answering, “Shepard… _my_ thing with Sidonis… was prideful. I was personally wronged and I became consumed by the desire for revenge I misconstrued as justice. Here? Plain and simple, you’re giving trillions of other lives the opportunity to _stay_ alive…” he paused momentarily for emphasis before continuing, “and when the reapers really do come, all of our leaders are going to be making a lot more of those decisions. We’re going to _lose_ people in this fight with the Collectors, against the _Reapers_ … No way around it.” With a sigh, he continued in a hushed tone, “Not a happy analysis, I know… but I’m with you, _regardless_ , Shepard.”

A disbelieving huffed laugh shook her shoulders once, shaking her head she asked, “Do you ever regret joining the Normandy crew?”

His eyes widened in surprise and a disbelieving laugh of his own escaped his mouth, “Not for a minute.” Shaking his head, as he sat up straighter, placing his hands on the crate beside him, “You know, when it comes down to it… I don’t think I’m a very good turian. When a turian hears a bad order, he follows it. He might complain, but he knows his place. I just can’t see the point for staying quiet and polite when the entire galaxy is at stake.”

Turning her head to look at him with a facetious hurt expression, “Have you been hearing _bad orders_ recently, Vakarian?”

He huffed a laugh and grinned down at her, “From the Illusive Man? Sure... and I mean, I can't believe you’ve never heard me say, “You’ve got to be kidding me” to some of your ideas.”

She offered a genuine smile as she looked down at the floor between her feet and he tilted his head in gentle adoration. She was going to be alright.

 

 

With a deep inhale, Garrus carefully considered his next words before saying them aloud, “Do you know one of the first few things I learned to appreciate about you as a CO when I first joined the Normandy?”

She slowly sat up a bit more, turning her head to look up at him, “Hm?” She asked simply.

He wasn’t quite sure how to phrase this, but it was probably worth a shot, “You thought differently than any CO I’d ever known.”

Well, okay, it didn’t quite come out right that time, “All of our commanders ran us tight, if they couldn’t micromanage us directly, they had several other people qualified for doing exactly that.” He paused, with a twinge of amusement, “ _Then_ I join the _Normandy_ and for the most part, you let us pick our own jobs, and the only time you check on your crew is to hear their thoughts on life, their families, their past, their views on the mission, what their hopes for the future would be…”

Shepard grinned slightly as he spoke, her gaze gently observing the floor a few meters away, “You didn’t think it weak or just plain wrong?” She quizzed, keeping her pleasant expression on the floor.

He huffed a laugh, “Maybe originally I did, but I eventually remembered that I wanted to join your crew in the first place because you were doing something _different_. I quickly learned to respect it, and it didn’t take long before I found myself hoping you’d be willing to talk to me on your trip down to the belly of the ship after missions.”

With a jokingly wide eyed expression, clearly more animated than she had been barely five minutes ago, she turned her head to look at him, “ _You_ wanted to talk?” she asked incredulously.

He raised a hand and pointed at her playfully while gazing at her sidelong, “Hey, remember I was more willing to talk than Wrex. So, at least I wasn’t dead-last… but yeah, I became fond of hearing your thoughts on my outlook on life, and of your interest in my past…” Momentarily, he paused, resting his hands on the side of the crate once more, gaze loosely wandering the floor space before him, “and-ah clearly I _missed_ it when you were gone. More than I would have anticipated.” He finished looking back down at her.

 

Shepard’s eyes were scanning over his face in an expression he wasn’t _quite_ certain of, but his best guess was something akin to _attraction_. It was possible, he supposed… _hoped?_

Spirits, how long had he been _hoping_?

 

She looked like she wanted to say something, but was working through what, exactly, that was. Just as he shifted his gaze away from her, she lifted her head and gently kissed his jaw before pulling away slowly, her gaze fixed nervously for a moment on his jaw rather than his eyes. He was already very familiar with the gesture. It was nigh on impossible to be unaware of its significance with how often he’d seen it in public, and the frequency of its mentions on the extranet.

He swallowed as a grin crinkled his eyes and he looked down at the ground before turning his head to look at her more directly with an almost teasing expression in his gaze, “Shepard?” He questioned, now almost smirking at her.

She was blushing, also clearly pleased that he was smiling as a result of her actions. With a casual shrug she grinned as she replied genuinely, “I missed you too.”


	24. 24. October, Garrus, Shepard

[2185, Sol System month of “October”; Normandy SR-2]

 

 

“Kasumi? Are you free?” Shepard’s voice drifted through her comm unit.

A smile crept onto Kasumi’s face, “Awaiting your orders, Commander.”

Garrus, Tali, Dr. Chakwas, Samara, Thane, and Zaeed all looked up from their lunch dishes a touch confused when Kasumi was the only one of the group to get a summon from the commander.

The elevator doors opened and an abnormal clacking noise resounded on the metal floor, “That party to get Keiji’s grey box is today. Is there anything else I should know before we head out?” Shepard asked, expecting only Kasumi to be sitting on the table once again.

Thane nearly dropped his fork and looked down to stare at his hand with admonition, Tali momentarily choked on whatever she was drinking, Zaeed let out a long whistle and commented as tactfully as ever, “ _God_ **_damn_**.”, Dr. Chakwas’s expression was proudly smiling, Garrus looked at her with a consoling expression and a ‘you’ve got this’ encouraging thumbs up at his waist so no one else could see but her, and Samara immediately gestured toward Shepard with both hands palm-up and stated from where she was seated, “Shepard, you look divine.”

Hopping up from her seat and completely abandoning her food, Kasumi walked up to the commander and circled around her, “It’s _perfect_.”

The voice Hannah Shepard had placed in her mind from her youth still griped in the back of her mind telling her to raise her chin in confidence. When she _had_ to, like when dealing with COs, she could, but at the moment a more prominent emotion in her mind was discomfort and embarrassment, “I’m glad you all like it, but I’d rather get back into my armor as quickly as possible, so…” she started, turning to look at Kasumi who had stopped circling her and now stood with her hands clasped together under her chin, staring at the commander with adoration, “You ready?” she asked, wondering how bright red her cheeks might be.

With a bemused expression, but an excited tone, Kasumi replied, “Absolutely!”

The room as Shepard left was dead silent, and she glanced back just before rounding the corner to see everyone still staring at her.

Halting her steps, she raised a hand flippantly, “What? You all need me to dismiss you back to your lunch?” she asked before lowering her head slightly toward her shoulders, “At ease?”

Most of the crew now obediently ignored her presence, but Zaeed locked his hands behind his head and leaned back in his chair still staring at her with a smug defiant grin. Shepard lifted her left hand in the air as she turned to walk out of the room again and accompanied the now raised middle finger with a general, “ _Verpiss dich_.” As she finally disappeared from sight. 

 

 

Garrus felt the entire table, except for Zaeed staring at him after Shepard left. Was he supposed to do something about this situation? He felt an uncomfortable nervous pressure flood up the sides of his neck, curving under his chin and up to his eyes.

“What?” he barked, more harshly than he’d intended, as he made jumpy eye-contact with everyone at the table who was watching him.

Tali shook her head and he was sure he could see her silver eyes dramatically roll from behind her frosted mask.

Samara offered politely, “I thought she looked absolutely wonderful.”

The rest of the table nodded in agreement and he glanced around at all of them, for some reason a bit ashamed of what he’d thought upon seeing her in that dress.

“-What did you think, Garrus?” Dr. Chakwas asked pointedly.

He shook his head, looking down at his food, “She looked embarrassed and uncomfortable.”

Dr. Chakwas gave a little ‘bah’ of a laugh, “Don’t be ridiculous! She looked lovely.”

He furrowed his brow slightly and looked up at her again, “Doctor… she was holding her hands at her torso, and her eyes looked momentarily panicked when she walked in the room, and it was blatantly obvious she didn’t feel comfortable with everyone staring and commenting on how nice she looked. Clearly, she’d hoped to find _only_ Kasumi down here.”

Tali poked him with her fork, “But did you _think she looked good_?”

Frustration bit at the corners of his jaw, but he attempted to respond calmly and honestly, “Tali, _everyone_ here thought she looked great. All of us are different species, but we’re _fully capable_ of identifying when someone’s dressed up and how attractive formal wear is. I’m not _blind_ because I’m a turian and Shepard’s a human. If you dressed up in your finest suit, I’d think you looked lovely too.” He paused making sure she was listening before he continued causally, “I’m just saying Shepard looked really uncomfortable… trapped.” He commented with a small shake of his head, “I wanted to offer her my hoodie and some cargo pants, or _something_.”

All the females at the table tilted their heads in adoration and smiled, but said nothing.

 

 

\---

 

 

Garrus was seated on his cot in sweat pants and his Cerberus hoodie, reading an article on his tablet when Shepard opened the doors to the main battery and stepped in… now wearing her normal cargo pants and crewman tee.

“Hey,” He said gladly as she offered a small smile and walked over to sit down on the crate adjacent to him, “how’d it go?”

She leaned forward and put her head in her hands, staring at the floor for a second before offering a short laugh.

He grinned at her, “That well hm?”

“Garrus…” She started, placing her hands behind her on the crate and looking across the room, “You know what drove me crazy the whole time I was out there with Kasumi?” She asked, eyes bright, almost wild with some kind of disbelief.

A low hum echoed in his chest before he quipped, “That dress and heels?”

She turned to look at him with a grin, and offered another disbelieving laugh, “That too... but the _whole time_ I was out there,” she started before her words sped up somewhat, “Especially when we broke in through the _side of the building to access this sleeze-ball’s bedroom_ ," her voice was higher in pitched, almost talk-singing the words, "and then fighting though _his massive treasure hoard_ , and …” she paused again, her voice returning to a normal speed, pitch, and volume, “The whole time, I couldn’t stop thinking about _you_.”

His jaw tensed in an effort to suppress the grin that was fighting to take place on his face. He should have been surprised, alarmed, confused… but he wasn’t in the least.

Placing the tablet down, he moved forward to sit on the edge of the cot, hands wrapped around the frame, “Hm? Why’s that?”

“I missed you.” She said observing him curiously, a small grin curling one corner of her mouth, “This was the first assignment, besides the one from Hackett on Alchera..." She paused momentarily before slowly stating, "and the most recent one with the-" she trailed off before shaking her head, "My point being, there aren't very many missions you haven’t been with me since you came aboard the Normandy and I felt like something was missing.” A flamboyant huff of a laugh escaped her chest before she spoke again, “I scanned a god damn _plant_ for this guy’s DNA because I was so distracted by constantly thinking about how much you might enjoy figuring out the puzzles we encountered, what your comments would be about every strange sculpture in this guy’s home, all the times I instinctively looked for you in a fight and you weren't there.”

Dipping his head, he grinned slightly before looking back up at her, “I’m pretty positive a Turian, dressed up or not, wouldn’t have been helpful where you were.”

Nodding slightly in agreement, she let her gaze wander to the floor in front of her, a bright look still in her eyes, “Do you know what was in that grey box Kasumi wanted so badly?”

Obviously he didn’t, but he played along anyway by shaking his head.

“Memories.” Shepard said shortly, turning her head to look at him.

He attempted to recall the first conversation Shepard had with Kasumi on the Citadel, “I thought Kasumi originally mentioned something potentially damning to humanity in that grey box?” He half mentioned half questioned.

“I didn’t bother to figure out what it was.” Shepard said with a shrug.

The plates above his eyes rose slightly in surprise, “You have no idea what it is? Shouldn’t Hackett have that kind of information… not _Kasumi_?” He asked a bit confused about Shepard’s decision.

She sat up a bit more, bracing her hands against her knees, “You know Garrus… I don’t have many _happy_ memories of my own.” Her voice was matter-of-fact and she looked at him with sincerity, “As soon as Kasumi opened that grey box, you know what she did?” Shepard prompted.

Once again, he obviously didn’t know so he shook his head, listening intently.

“Without a single consideration of finding the incriminating data, she ran straight to a file of the first time she and Keiji finally admitted how they felt for one another.” Shepard paused, looking up at the ceiling, her expression somewhat distraught, “She was so god-damned _happy_.” Her voice a whisper, expression now somewhat filled with pain.

A moment of silence passed between them before Shepard spoke again, looking back down and grinning to ease the tension in her face, “Watching her made me realize, as we rode back in silence, that the only happy memories I’ve had in the last several years, despite all the hell we’ve been through, have been aboard the Normandy, but most importantly… when I’m working or talking or _whatever_ … with _you_.” She said turning to look at him with a clearly nervous but happy expression.

Dipping his head, he grinned once again, looking back up at her a moment later from under his brow, “Yeah.” He huffed quietly, “After you died, I realized the same thing.” He admitted with small repetitive nods, “I’d gone through a lifetime of fighting, trying to work my way up until I could get to a point where someone would listen and then _do something_. Then I take a few steps back down the chain of command as some little no-nonsense _human_ commander takes me on as a _ship-lackey_ and then has the nerve to listen to me regardless of-“

In an instant, Shepard scooted closer to him, reaching up to hold his face gently in her hands before pressing her mouth against his with closed eyes. A flood of chemicals from his brain cascaded down his spine and through his face. His jaw instantly felt a bit heavier than normal, hands itching to move… He knew _exactly_ what this meant and even though it wasn’t _normal_ for him, it _was_ for her. Regardless, the emotions that had urged her to do so mirrored his own, even if they were shown in a different way.

She pulled away rather quickly and tilted her head away, clearly embarrassed, “I’m sorry, that must have been so strange for you.”

Tilting his head back and forth again, he gazed at her with a bit of mischief in his expression, “Strange? I’m really not sure, Shepard.” She clearly had no qualms about kissing _him_ , so he prompted comfortably with a teasing air, “I might need to try it a few more times before I really decide.”

Her face lit up in a smile and she rolled her eyes now genuinely laughing before obliging twice more, one of his hands now lightly holding the side of her face as she leaned forward, bracing her hands on his knees.

He had absolutely no idea how the experience must be for her, but he had to admit… it was difficult to deny appreciation of the sensation on his end.

When she pulled away again she looked up at him with a grin as he ran his thumb across her cheek in adoration, “Did you decide?” She asked, still leaning forward, gazing up at him with a mischievous glint in her eyes.

A calming breath travelled through his lungs, and he brought both hands up to her face, before pressing his mouth against her forehead to mimic a caring or adoring interaction he was familiar with in humans, although it was very similar to one in his own species. One of her hands gently wrapped around his wrist as the other still supported her weight on his knee. Quietly, he offered a choppy kind of purr from deep within his chest as he let his hands fall to the cot beside him and dropped his head to press his forehead against her own.

Maintaining eye contact with her then, he quietly jested, “Didn’t know you had a thing for men with _scars_ , Shepard.” 

Her shoulders shook and her eyes crinkled in mirth, “Yeah, I was head over heels for Ol’Wrex when he was aboard, but then you go and one-up him in the scar department and now I just can’t stay away from you.“ Smiling amused, she offered a purring sound of her own from within her throat, and his eyes widened in response.

 

_Humans can **do** that? That could make emotional-communication so much easier…_

 

Pulling away from her slightly he tilted his head, “How did you do that?” He asked with a bright and enraptured expression.

Amused she explained with a casual shrug, “Some humans can, others can’t. Kind of like how some people can roll their tongues in different shapes. I happen to be one of the people who can purr.” She pointed at his chest, “Your species has a syrinx doesn’t it?” When he nodded in agreement she continued, “Then the way you purr is completely different from my own. I actually use my tongue instead of my _larynx_. Our vocal cords are too large to make a purring sound like some of the other species on Earth. Here…” She said raising her chin slightly, “Put your finger right here.” Lightly, she pushed up against the soft skin just under and behind her chin, he did so and she purred again before he moved his finger down to her throat and she did it again, then back to her chin.

Dropping his hand from her chin once more to the cot, she leaned back, and he teased, “So, kissing a turian?... I can’t imagine it’s much fun for you.”

Her gaze was pleasant, but their light soon dimmed to a more tumultuous expression he wasn’t quite adept at understanding just yet, “I like it believe it or not, but I’m sure we can do better…” She paused eyes scanning over his face before standing.

Garrus rose synchronously, now looking down on her, his chest unintentionally coming in contact with her own. When she didn’t move away, instead looking up at him with a challenging expression, he inquired, “Is that a suggestion, an offer, or a challenge?” He asked gazing down at her with a strange kind of fire in his expression.

“Garrus Vakarian,” Shepard started, summoning a momentary flicker of courage and commented with a facetiously frustrated expression, “If you think I’d stand here for a single moment and politely **_ask_** you to fuck me when it’s obvious we both want to try… you’d be dead wrong.”

Various chemicals once again flooded through his brain, tensing his jaw, and slightly increasing his breath rate. A purr emanated from his chest once again and he grinned, “Really now?” He challenged.

“Mhm.” She commented glaring up at him, now faltering slightly in the wake of his counter-challenge.

 

 

 _I made her nervous_.

 

He thought to himself with a twinge of amusement.

 

 _Alright…_ _Take it slow._

 

 

His expression changed to a gentle one, “Shepard… There is no one in this entire galaxy I respect more than you. If we can figure out a way to make this work, then…” Uttering an involuntary chuckle as he spoke again, “Part-challenge-mostly-offer _accepted_.” He teased.

Her face lit up in an embarrassed smile and she pointed at him, “You just wait.” She said with an all knowing expression as she turned to walk back out the door.

His brow furrowed slightly wondering what she had up her sleeve, “Wait for what?” He questioned toward her back knowing she likely wouldn't answer.

She turned to look at him out of the corner of one eye with a smirk as the door closed behind her once again and she disappeared from view.


	25. 25. October, Garrus, Kasumi, Shepard

 

[Interview; Subject: Garrus Vakarian; late year 2189 CE, 3 years post Reaper Destruction.]

 

Curious, I pressed, “What made you decide on Commander Shepard?”

A huff of a laugh escaped his nose in response to my question, “Do you want the professional answer to that or the one filled with doting adorations and heart felt axioms?”

I shook my head lightly grinning at him, “The truth, sir. Whichever you feel is most appropriate.”

His eyes narrowed slightly in a smile, and he clasped his hands, leaning forward in his seat, bracing his elbows on the cushioned arms, “The doting adorations then.” He commented, gaze fixed momentarily on the ground, memories played across his eyes like watching a river flow carrying leaves, small fish, little wisps of sand… It was fascinating for me, taking _this_ job. I’d been told to make these interviews as truthful and interesting as possible, and to report with detail the things he might have been thinking and feeling while speaking, to interpret the turian’s lack of facial expressions for the mostly non-turian readers. I think watching a heart broken, war-torn, once passionate turian had taught me more about reading people than any class I'd ever taken. Somehow, attempting to interpret his facial expressions _wasn’t_ difficult. You’d always expect it to be challenging upon fist meeting them, but there’s just… _something_ about a _turian_.

“What made me decide on Commander Shepard…” He quoted me, thinking about the specific question instead of the memories that went along with having made the decision, “Are you looking for a one word answer?” An observant expression fixated on my face as I sat across the coffee table from him.

I tilted my head back and forth before offering, “Maybe try to think of one word, and then, if you want, expand on it.”

“Cogitation.” He said simply, leaning back and smirking at me like he didn’t think I’d know what that meant.

I didn’t argue, instead offering a small coy grin before leaning back slightly in my seat, “I expected something like, considerate, kind-hearted, authoritative etc.… I’m impressed by such a thoughtful answer, sir. How so?”

Raising his chin slightly and gazing at the wall across from him instead of me momentarily, he elaborated, “A lot of people thought Shepard impulsive. It seemed, when under pressure, she could make snap decisions and somehow she’d just get _lucky_ , along with all of those with her; however, after spending enough time with her… it becomes blatantly obvious she isn't surrounded by _blind luck_. She calculated that risk, she focused on how to get everyone out, and she did it. More often than not mid-fight she and I could communicate full plans _wordlessly_."

“What do you mean?” I pried hoping he'd explain further.

“It starts much like how you’ve been doing this... sitting across from me day after day. You pay attention, you notice the subtle details in my expressions. It becomes easier and easier to identify when someone’s thinking, reminiscing, regretting, etc. Shepard was as difficult for most people to read after _several months_ as their first few encounters with turians. That is to say… Shepard was _always thinking_. I don’t know exactly how she did it, but those instances where she’d have to make a quick decision and it seemed like she acted without thinking at all…” He huffed a laugh, “Cogitation. A single thought that when acted upon is made in such a way that it seems like the person had been thinking about every possible application of the answer for months on end. In an instant,” He imitated the motion of how humans snap their fingers to emphasize his point, a light ‘twhip’ sound emanating as a result, “a new scenario could be processed and executed as if she’d paused time and meditated on its implications. She was incredibly intelligent, but not quite in the ways you’d think of intelligence.”

He huffed a laugh, eyes bright, “I’ve told you stories of Dr. Mordin Solus, the Salarian scientist we had on-board the SR-2. That’s a completely different kind of intelligence. Kasumi Goto was unnaturally gifted in _emotional_ intelligence. Shepard? She could identify the smallest shift in someone’s tone of voice. If she was in the _same room_ as someone she knew well whose body language wasn’t _quite_ normal, she’d know and ask them about it later. If something was going wrong in a fight, she could somehow reasonably calculate the amount of armor she had left, the shots left before needing a new heat sink, how much it would take to down the targets in front of her...  _then on top of all that,_ " He said leaning forward with a shake of his head and began counting additional tasks over and over on his fingers, "she could keep track of what enemies were focusing on us, which enemies  _we_ were focusing on, where everyone was located, where were the enemies coming from, how much time would it take for all of us to regroup, how capable we were of falling back or advancing, where each of us might be flanked from, when and how we should all try to filter Husks into a narrow passage way..." He chuckled aloud, fixating momentarily on another memory, “I can’t tell you how many times she kept shouting at us to ' _shoot out their knees!'_  The head or chest was never the most efficient…” He motioned in front of him with a flat hand indicating a straight line, “Just the knees. Downed ‘em instantly.”

Resituating his hands, clasped against his torso, he looked up a bit and continued, “Shepard grew up learning how to read people’s body language so well because… I think with her situation at home growing up with her mom… she kind of _had_ to. I, on the other hand, had been trained to, and maybe a little bit was natural skill. I remember the first time I saw Shepard though, right after arguing with my boss in the council tower, was her body language. It wasn’t just what you’d expect from a soldier. I think we saw parts of ourselves in one another.”

“Do you think the attraction to one another started that far back? A love at first sight?” I asked offering a wry grin.

He thought about the question for a moment before he grinned, “Well, seeing as we ended up together it probably seems that way whether or not it really was. I know back then we were all still a little weary of alien races taking on TS class missions with us. Sure, we all had clearance and were soon officially recognized as need-to-know, but the trust I think may have taken a bit longer. I remember Shepard telling me once all the trouble she had with the crew when the Turian Spectre Nihlus Kryik boarded and stuck around longer than expected. The Normandy was still Admiral… Councilor… Captain…” He waved his hand rolling his eyes at all the times the title had changed, “ ** _Anderson’s_** at the time.”

Curious, I tilted my head, “Did Shepard ever admit a species-phobic problem at the beginning?”

He shook his head, “I honestly don’t think she ever had one. She took one look at me and saw that I was someone who desperately wanted to get something done who was clearly willing to work with her, and that was more than enough for her. You know, with my track record around COs, I became devoted to her far more quickly and more _consistently_ than I’d ever thought possible."

Huffing a laugh, he started while pointing at me conversationally, “You know, I realized this after we more _officially_  chose to date in ’86, but I can recall being a bit annoyed at Sgt. Alenko’s flirting with the Commander on the original SSV. At least Liara had the balls to ask out right if Shepard wanted to be in a relationship. Alenko just kept… _dancing_ around it for _so long_. I swear I could probably have built three Makos from scratch by the time he ever worked up the nerve to ask her outright."

I observed him amused, he was in a good mood today, so I decided to try prodding him a bit, “If I’m reading my notes right… you mentioned Shepard was the one who kept pursuing you and, quote, ‘without her blatant interest, I most likely never would have tried asking her.’” I finished raising an eyebrow in a teasing manner.

Nodding he grinned a bit, “I still think that’s true. Look… Shepard was never species phobic, and neither was I, but I suppose there’s a bit of apprehension when it comes to making a serious long-term interspecies relationship work. You know," He gestured with his hands in a rolling motion, "a lot of things to consider. Alenko had a much easier opportunity.” He finished, shaking his head with an amused sigh, “Your original question was, what made me _decide_ _on Shepard_ … I suppose you may be right. A part of me fell for her right at the start. It was like the inception point. The moment you thought you knew what was going on, but only years later after having been through it all do you realize what was really happening and how special it all was.”

Pointing conversationally at me, he said, “There was a really over-used quote that Shepard absolutely loved. I mean… it’s a really good quote, but when a book is published in _1947_ and Shepard tells me this one specific quote in 2186… You know it’s been overused. Anyway, the author’s name I believe was Alice Francis? Wait no… Anne? I think it was Anne Francis _?_ ” He half stated, half asked.

I squinted trying to figure it out before I tilted my head and offered, “Anne Frank?”

Nodding emphatically he motioned toward me with an open hand, “That’s it… Anne Frank. Anyway the-ah.” He cleared his throat, “The quote was,” He paused again squinting down at the table attempting to remember it exactly, ““Dead pe-“ his voice halted unintentionally as he spoke, momentarily overwhelmed by a deep-seeded kind of sadness, “Dead people receive more flowers than living ones because _regret_ is stronger than _gratitude_.””

I watched with a pitying expression as saying the words aloud once more made him somewhat return to his more typical melancholy self, “It’s painfully true, isn’t it?” He asked looking down at a thick book on the table between us.

I’d noticed it when he sat down, but hadn’t asked what it was, although it looked like a very worn photo album. Whenever he was ready, I hoped he’d show it to me.  

 

\--- ---

 

[2185, Sol System month of “October”; Normandy SR-2]

 

 

Unnaturally blue eyes turned in her direction as the figure inhaled briefly on the cigarette between his fingers, “Shepard, your counterattack against the reapers with the destruction of the Alpha relay was a huge success.”

With a disbelieving huff of a laugh she shook her head, “Three hundred thousand _plus_ batarians… Destroyed.”

“You handled this situation exactly as I’d hoped, Shepard. You’ve given us more time.” The Illusive Man said with a circular motion of his hand while lowering his head to stare momentarily at the floor, his other hand braced on the back of his chair, “You accepted the risk. _This_ -“ He indicated toward her with an open hand looking back up again, ”-is the exact kind of leadership humanity _needs_.”

Crossing her arms, Shepard tilted her head back slightly and prompted, “Why didn’t you know about this?”

He pointed toward her conversationally with the butt of his cigarette, “Why do you assume I didn’t know? Who do you think recruited Dr. Kenson to begin with?”

“Then why work through Alliance personnel instead of talk to me directly?” Shepard asked leaning forward momentarily to emphasize her point.

Taking another drag from his cigarette he spoke to exhale the smoke, “You still have some semblance of loyalty to the Alliance, Shepard. I know that. This operation required finesse… and the personal nature of this operation to the Alliance admiral was the best way to ensure you believed in its importance.”

Shepard uncrossed her arms and gestured toward him with both hands, “Your project went out of control! Everyone in that facility was _indoctrinated_.” She commented emphatically.

“Yes,” He started, sitting down in his chair and crossing one knee over the other, “an… _unfortunate_ turn of events." Agreeing with a slow nod of his head, he then waived his hand in dismissal, "Regardless, you’ve done _great_ things for humanity, Shepard.” He commented looking down to knock the ash off the end of his cigarette.

Shaking her head Shepard tried to think of something else to say, but nothing useful came to mind.

When she remained silent he looked away from his cigarette to her once again, “We need to find that reaper IFF, Shepard, and the sooner the better, but Miranda’s informed me you’re working on readying your ship for the flight through the Omega 4 Relay.” He paused momentarily before nodding slowly, “When you’ve collected the resources you need, Miranda will tell you where to go to have the improvements installed.” He reached forward to end the call, but stopped his hand short, “Your decision in the Bahak system has given you and _humanity_ as a _whole_ , **time**. You’ll do well to focus on that aspect of this… _unfortunate event_. Good luck, Shepard.”

Shepard lazily stepped backward out of the holographic projection ring, each step landing solidly as if attempting to relay her admonition through the floor. Mere hours ago, Admiral Hackett, the voice of the Alliance Navy, had left her ship after listening to her report on Dr. Kenson’s indoctrination, the issue with the reapers, and the destruction of the Viper Nebula…

As the table rose before her, once again reverting the room to a meeting space, she laid the tablet in her hand on the risen table, “Why did I bring this thing with me?” She asked herself aloud placing her fists forcefully on her hips. The report was never meant for The Illusive Man… Maybe somehow her gut knew he was involved before this meeting ever started.

An uncomfortable chill rose from her stomach and seized her throat like all the blood suddenly flowed to her feet instead of her brain. The Illusive Man had known just how to play both her and Hackett. Shepard needed more convincing than “because I want you to” for her to have gone into that whole situation without backup, and Cerberus’s master knew it… Shepard huffed a laugh, scooping the tablet back off the table with a semblance of hatred, and motioned around with a hand as she spoke to herself, “How fitting… We’re working with a company named after the mythological canine-based guardian of _hell_.” Frustration twisted around her spine like a snake, squeezing her jaw and forehead, and tightening her back as if readying her to block a punch.

Joker and EDI were currently guiding the ship back towards Hagalaz. The Shadow Broker’s terminals likely had excellent information on planets with large deposits of natural resources for the ship upgrades the Normandy so desperately needed, but there was still a day or so between their current destination and Liara’s new ship.

In these in-between times, Shepard often felt… a little bit useless. She wasn’t able to work on the engines, or help program the main guns. There wasn’t much for her to do besides physical labor on board and the Cerberus crew were already constantly keeping the place spotless. Shepard had spent entire days in her room several times over listening to vague reports from the Alliance for something to do on the way to their next destination, and this was looking to be another one of those days.

Staring down at her tablet as she walked through Mordin’s lab toward the CIC, Shepard completely ignored every soul in the room as she advanced toward the elevator, her eyes still fixated on the pain-staking report she’d written for Admiral Hackett regarding the destruction of the Alpha relay. On habit without even a glance, she hit a button on the elevator and prepared herself for ascent, but her equilibrium was thrown off balance as the elevator instead began to slide downwards. In a momentary panic, she reached out to grab the railing, behind her, the hand with her tablet slapped open handed against the wall to slow her topple and re-orient herself. The momentary panic racing through her mind was apparently clear as the elevator opened and Jacob laughed before covering his mouth with a hand and attempting to dismiss the amusement, “You alright Commander?”

Exhaling a deep breath, she pushed herself back upright and nodded, “I- yeah. I was thrown more off balance than I’d anticipated…” She commented as she walked out of the elevator before mumbling to herself, “That was utterly ridiculous.”

As Jacob stepped into the elevator and the doors closed behind her, she stopped and stared pointedly at the floor, “Why did I get out of the elevator? I didn’t want to be here…” She commented with disbelief as she brought her middle finger and thumb in contact with her forehead.

She considered heading in to talk to Garrus once more, but for some reason the thought made her momentarily apprehensive. Maybe later?

 

 

 _Restless_.

 

 

Nothing particularly interested her at the moment, she had nothing to work on, no one she really felt like talking to, and she didn’t quite feel like doing a work out either. Looking around a bit clueless, she sighed and walked with heavy bored steps towards Kasumi’s room. After buzzing in quietly to ask if she was awake or busy, Kasumi happily replied for her to enter. The doors slid open and she stepped in to find Kasumi sitting on the couch flipping through the photo album she’d been working so hard on.

“Was I right or was I riiiight?” Kasumi asked holding up the album to show the most recent photos she’d taken of Shepard kissing Garrus and the one next to it of him reciprocating. 

Her face instantly flushed as her eyes widened, “You were there??” Shepard asked leaning her head back slightly in embarrassment.

Chuckling Kasumi shook her head, “No. I just put a bunch of micro-cams around the Main Battery knowing I’d get something good eventually.”

Momentarily, confused anger filled Shepard’s visage, “Kasumi, that’s a blatant violation of privacy that-“

“-The Illusive Man has cams all over the ship, Shepard. Plus… believe it or not, Garrus gave me _permission_.” Kasumi said with a smirk.

Kasumi cracked up as Shepard’s previously irritated visage melded hilariously with a stunned-processing expression, “He… what?”

“They’re already gone. I promised him I only wanted that one shot and I _got it_ , all in one day too… I took out all of my own cams and the two good ol’ TIM had installed in the Main Battery.” Kasumi explained gently.

Shepard’s gaze drifted to the photo album resting in Kasumi’s lap, “How did you know when or even _if_ that was going to happen?” She queried as discouragement seized her chest.

 

 

_Was this all just a game?_

_Don’t jump to conclusions, Shepard… Listen and ask._

 

 

“Oh come on, Shepard.” Kasumi began, “Grunt, Zaeed, and I were watching from the walkway that night you two were in the cargo hold. The night-vision equipment you’ve got on this ship is top-notch! So, I figured after _that_ it wouldn’t take much longer until you both just went for it. Shepard, I… Garrus told me there was a decent chance you’d be upset about this, and I totally understand if you are, but I promise this isn’t a set-up.” She paused, thinking momentarily, observing Shepard’s apprehensive expression, “I don’t know if this will make you feel any better, but your timing was seriously a coincidence with when I installed the cams. They’re motion activated and only remain on for about three minutes at a time. The only pictures I had before you went in there were ridiculous expressions Garrus made as a joke.”

Intrigued the corner of Shepard’s mouth curled into a smirk, “Do you have _those_ printed?” she queried.

Pursing her lips in mischief, she held the photo album out to her, “Sure do.”

Shepard stepped forward, taking the album and laying it over her tablet.

Kasumi waved her off with one hand, “Take it. I was making it for you guys anyway and I think there’s enough in there for some happy memories.”

A jolt ran down Shepard’s spine at Kasumi’s last words.

 

 

_Happy memories…_

 

 

For unspoken reasons her eyes brimmed with tears, and she looked away from Kasumi and the album, staring pointedly out the window attempting to subdue the emotions that cascaded through her veins. A small huff of a laugh escaped her mouth as she returned her gaze to Kasumi, “I hadn’t actually thought about why you were so interested in taking all these photos.” Shepard admitted with a forced conversational tone to push past the whisper her vocal cords tried to make.

Kasumi stood and sighed deeply as she approached the commander, lifting the hood from her head to gaze for the first time at Shepard in the light. Inhuman eyes locked with Shepard’s own, dark grey, almost black irises surrounded a white-gold pupil… If a star could “eclipse” a much larger non-gaseous solar body, _that_ , Shepard thought, is exactly what it would look like. The first thought that jolted through Shepard’s mind was that somehow the mythologies were right… maybe somehow dragons or goddesses had taken human form millennia ago to walk among the creatures they adored. Kasumi’s unnatural ability to figure out puzzles and her remarkable physical capabilities already made her seem ageless.

Regardless, whether natural or implanted, the sight captivated Shepard before Kasumi spoke, “Shepard, you saw what happened to Keiji and me. I suppose experiencing that kind of pain can make you hyper-skilled at finding those connections in other people. I saw something really special and rare between you and Garrus,” She said tilting her head slightly before rushing to clarify, “and not just because you’re different species.” She took a small breath and glanced momentarily across the room before flicking her gaze back to Shepard’s own, “I wanted to make sure… if you guys ever really did get together. If something terrible happened to only _one_ of you, you’d still have… something.” Pausing again, she looked down at her hands, wringing them slightly, “I didn’t want either of you to be left with nothing but your own memories if the worst really happened.”

Shepard wasn’t really sure what to say. Her instinct was to reach out and embrace Kasumi, but her own mental processes held her still. The pain Kasumi had experienced with Keiji was clearly heart breaking, but this master thief... This woman she'd unintentionally come to adore as a close friend in the last few months, had dedicated so much of her time and money to try and wordlessly make sure two other people she barely knew, but cared for, didn't experience the same kinds of lost-pain she endured after Keiji's death. No doubt, Shepard's decision to let Kasumi keep the grey box only increased her respect for the commander.

When Shepard looked back up again, Kasumi gazed at her with a deep awe filled expression in her celestial eyes. Somehow, it was nearly impossible for them to appear one-dimensional, as if emotion and physiology were equally interwoven into their very existence, “You know, I’d heard of you before Cerberus called me, but I had no idea how intense your job was, how _ridiculously_ dangerous…” She commented with a hint of a smile before her visage shifted to one of seriousness and she leaned forward slightly, “Shepard, I’ll tell you the same thing I told Garrus before I set up those cams the other day. If for some reason only one of you makes it out of all this _alive_ … I wanted one of you to at least have this. Every war needs documentation and I have files of compressed images of all the fights I’ve accompanied you on, but _these_?” She placed her hand atop the album boring into Shepard’s soul with her intense gaze, “Needed to be printed.”

Setting the album and tablet on the couch next to her, Shepard opened her arms as she turned once more to face Kasumi directly. Kasumi grinned and wrapped her arms solidly around the commander. Honestly, Shepard had no idea what to say. She wanted to thank her, to convey how Kasumi had been _right_ … something.

Wordlessly, Kasumi grinned and stepped back from Shepard, lifting the hood over her face, once again shadowing her god-like eyes from the rest of the world. She understood Shepard’s wordless thanks as she shot Shepard with some finger guns, returning to her less serious self, and ushered her out of her room, “Go on. Bond over these with your _turian-lover_.” She finished with an absolutely dreadful romantic-type accent.

Shepard blushed at Kasumi’s parting words and shook her head walking backwards out of her friend's room with a playfully warning glare. As the doors closed, Shepard gazed down fondly at the photo album, opening the front cover and appreciating the small cracking sound. Turning her head, Shepard observed the doors at the end of the hallway before slowly closing the cover of the book once more and walking confidently toward the Main Battery.


	26. 26. October, Garrus, Shepard

 

[2185, Sol System month of “October”; Normandy SR-2]

 

 

Only yesterday, Shepard had proposed the two of them enjoy some time together, _sexually_ , before their upcoming suicide mission against the collectors. If he said he’d been able to think about much else since her offer, the words would be blatant lies through and through. Yesterday evening, he’d been thrilled, noticeably happier than usual, thinking constantly about how much he cared for her and how glad he was she shared those sentiments. Today… thoughts of uncertainty plagued him, gripping his throat, aching his lower back, tightening his shoulders. He cared for Shepard, but if he had to be honest, the reality of the two of them being able to _enjoy_ a sexual relationship seemed… maybe a little more far-fetched than he’d thought initially.

Leaning forward against his console, one hand bracing his chin, the other holding his tablet, he sighed, scrolling through articles, images, and videos of human intercourse. Every once in a while, he wondered if Shepard was really wanting all of this for some exotic experience, or if she genuinely just wanted to spend an evening with him. The reassuring thoughts in his mind reminded him she had seemed genuinely interested in _him_ , not just the sexual activities, but regardless… if this turned into something serious later, sex was always going to be a part of it. The thought of letting her down gripped his throat uncomfortably.

Laying his forehead down on the desk and letting his hands fall helplessly, palms up, on the bench as the tablet slid down and bumped against his face, he groaned. Moments later he heard footsteps outside the door and panic raced down his spine as he fumbled to grab the tablet again and click on anything _but_ human sex positions and pleasure zones, but every tab he had open for the last several hours contained a plethora of similar information. Swearing under his breath he pressed the power button and tossed it in a crate across the room, moments before the door opened.

“Shepard.” He purred calmly despite his previous panic, turning around to greet her. “Need me for something?” His tone rich and somewhat teasing as if she just happened to stop by for any random reason.

“Yeah,” She said with a bright eyed smile. Her body language was relaxed… _happy._ “have you got a minute?”

Of course he did, but his mind was so focused on his own concerns he genuinely forgot to ask what she wanted to talk to him about. Reaching next to him, he locked the door behind her as she then grinned up at him with a mischievous smirk.

“I have time.” He offered calmly before succumbing to his anxiety, “Shepard… I-“ A disbelieving huff escaped his nose, “I’ve been thinking a lot on what we talked about.” He looked down at the ground, pacing slightly, placing his hand on the back of his neck before turning to look at her again, his nervousness blatantly obvious. She must know what he was hesitating to say, yet she gazed at him with adoration, waiting politely, holding on to hope.

“I’m- well I’ve never actually considered _cross-species intercourse_ before with such sincerity and… well damn, saying it that way doesn’t help. Now I feel dirty and clinical.” She’d toned down the happy expression on her face, no doubt to try and make him feel a bit more comfortable, but she looked every bit as confident as he _wasn’t_. Shaking his head he continued, his voice cracking a bit on the first word, “Are we _crazy_ to even be thinking about this? I’m not su… _look_ , Shepard…” He paused now, his tone shifting from nervous to now a quiet solemn… resigning, “I know you can find something a little closer to home.”

Hands still behind her back, she tilted her head slightly and observed him in silence for a moment, her bright gaze now deeper in expression, searching his face with a gentle curiosity, “I know I could.”

Her voice was so gentle, so calm… everything he couldn’t reach at that very moment, and she’d just given it all to him in such a warm way. She took a step closer to him and although his heart rate was already racing beforehand, it became more obvious as she closed the distance between them, “Garrus, I could have cultivated a relationship with anyone on this ship. I could have committed to Liara or Alenko. I could have found any ship lackey on shore leave. I completely understand if you’re having second thoughts, and I would never want you to feel trapped, but…” She fixated him with a sincere expression and offered a little chuckle, “Like I said, I haven’t been able to stay away from you. The fact of the matter is, I want _you_ , Garrus. If we die on this mission, I want to spend the last possible moments before its deployment in the arms of someone I trust _whole heartedly_ , regardless of our species difference.”

His mouth had partially hung open as if about to speak while she had been talking, but as she finished a huff of air escaped his mouth all in one forceful exhale. To some extent, her words were calming, he didn’t know how important different aspects of a relationship might be to her and if experiencing an unfortunately awkward night together might make her regret her decision… but as she looked up at him, a surge of confidence made him grin at her and nod, “I can do that. I’ll ah-… do some _research_ to figure out how this thing should work.” He grinned attempting to calm his mind by adding in some humor, “It’ll either be a night to treasure or a horrible interspecies awkwardness _thing_.” He said gesturing with both hands rolling around one another. After a moment pause he awkwardly motioned toward her with one hand, “In which case, fighting the collectors will be a _welcome distraction_.” Raising his hand and placing it behind his neck, he continued, “So, you know… it’s a win either way.” He finished, dropping his hand once more. If there had ever been an awkward moment in his life in which giving a super anxious cheesy grin was even remotely appropriate… here it was.

“Garrus.” She said calmly, reorienting his focus on her instead of his insecurities and somehow instantly calming him again, tension cascading off his shoulders to the floor, “If you’re not comfortable with this, it’s _honestly_ okay. I’d never intend to pressure you, or make you uncomfortable.”

Realization of what he might accidentally talk his way out of suddenly took hold of him and he huffed a disbelieving laugh, reaching up then to hold her face gently in his hands. He stood there, enthralled by her for a moment as he shook his head gently, somewhat disappointed for his doubt in her intentions, “Shepard…” His voice gentle while staring down at her with a genuine intense sincerity, “You’re about the _only friend_ I’ve got left in this screwed-up galaxy. You don’t ever have to worry about making me uncomfortable.” Letting one hand drop to her arm he ran a thumb across her cheek with the other and huffed a small laugh, “ _Nervous_ , yes… but never uncomfortable.”

A grin once again alighted on her face and she reached out to embrace him, as she did so revealing some kind of book she’d been holding behind her back since she entered the room. He wrapped his arms tightly around her before picking her up slightly off the floor and she squeaked a laugh.

 

 

 _Did she just giggle?_ He asked himself with amusement. _Commander Shepard **giggled**_.

 

 

Looking up at him with a matter of fact expression before it shifted to one of subtle nervousness, “I hope- Well, I hope maybe you’ll look forward to this.” She said gently and honestly.

Letting go of her briefly he looked down on her and tilted his head, “Shepard…” He started glancing down at the thick book she now held in front of her before making eye contact with her again, “I genuinely adore you, and of course I’m looking forward to this. Even if for some reason we find out natural sex doesn’t work out very well for whatever reason, no species is completely incapable of artificially pleasuring one another. We’ll figure this out.” A moment later, he reached up and gently ran his hand through her hair, gazing fondly at her, “I promise.”

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, soaking in his gentle promise, internalizing and silently reciprocating it. When she opened her eyes again, she laid the book down on the console behind him, stood on her tip toes, set her arms on the ridges of his armor, hands lazily crossing over one another behind his neck while maintaining eye contact with him… her gaze shifting dotingly over his visage. “Like I said,” she started quietly, “Even if everything sexual goes horribly wrong for some unforeseen reason, at the very least I will be happy with you simply being there with me.”

A wholehearted kind of stillness filled the limited space between them as he placed his hands on her waist. Suddenly tired, he closed his eyes and leaned his forehead against hers, sighing pleasantly as she returned the gesture and gently ran her hand over the back of his neck.

Several years ago, this kind of situation would have been merely a strange kind of fling for him, but… for some reason, the instinct that captivated his mind now was one of longevity. Was it Shepard? Was it general maturity? Without a doubt, he realized he wasn’t interested in letting this go. _Hopefully_ she felt the same, or eventually would. Maybe after their night together, if she still showed casual interest, he might ask her what she was thinking about keeping it going.

She shifted slightly and he opened his eyes as she rested her chin on the front ridge of his armor and stared up at him with a playful grin, “So… when should I book the room?”

He’d considered the answer to that question pretty heavily before she even walked in, but now faced with the decision of which answer he wanted to choose… he pondered it for a brief moment more before answering, “If you don’t mind, I’d like to wait. Disrupt the rest of the crew as little as possible, and take that last chance to find some _calm_ just before the storm.”

She continued to grin up at him, “I can do that, although, if you’d like some help with that _research_ … I’m sure we could keep some of it quiet if you’d like a bit of trial by fire. We’ll save the special stuff for the last day, sure, but… I mean like general intimate touches etcetera.”

His jaw flexed in a grin and his eyes narrowed slightly in a somewhat dubious smile, “ _Maybe_ , if we can keep it quiet, but if we can, I’d like that.”

“Yeah?” She asked biting her lip playfully, tip-toeing again and placing her forehead against his, maintaining eye contact.

A purr emanated from his throat, “Yeah…” He confirmed in a breathy tone as he stepped as close to her as possible and gently nudged her cheek to tilt her head upwards a bit as a prompt for her to kiss him.

Instantly understanding the intent of the gesture, she obliged, chuckling as she did so, wrapping her arms a bit more solidly around his neck. He huffed a laugh along with her, a gentle huff of genuine happiness escaping his throat as he held both hands gently on her waist.

Pulling away from him momentarily she grinned, and resituated one of his hands down onto her ass, “Hey, check it out… Big squish area.” She started before moving his other to her breast, “Little squish area.”

A highly entertained and mildly embarrassed laugh escaped his mouth. He had never anticipated this kind of interaction could so easily arouse him, but she was treating this first scenario so gratifyingly nonchalantly. There was such a playfulness to it, and despite the differences between his species and her own, he knew enough about human anatomy and interaction to realize the intent behind her actions.

Staring down at his hand on her breast he palpated it gently despite the multiple layers of cloth between it and his hand, “What do you think?” She asked grinning up at him with a distant expression in her eyes.

If his face could blush, it absolutely would have, but he felt the blood rush to his face as it heated up considerably, with a huff of a laugh he offered, shifting his gaze to once more look her in the eyes, “I ah…” He honestly wasn’t quite certain what to say. Although the structure itself, at the very moment, didn’t do much for him… the _intent behind the action_ had. How- what was the appropriate way to convey that?

She grinned as he shifted the hand that had been on her ass back to her waist, and let the hand on her breast drop to join the other on the opposing side.

Smiling at him in adoration, she commented quietly, “Don’t worry. It won’t hurt my feelings if you’re not a fan just yet."

He cleared his throat, “That’s not… exactly my sentiment.” He conveyed a bit stiffly.

In response to her eyes widening, he grinned at her affectionately, “You actually like it?” She questioned, clearly surprised.

Tilting his head he picked her up and set her down next to the book she’d laid on his console, and she instinctively wrapped her legs around his waist as he stepped closer to her, “I genuinely do. It’s very different, but I think it’s a lot like what happened when you kissed me the first time. It wasn’t what I expected at first, but it’s honestly difficult to deny that aspects of it are enjoyable. Particularly the motivation behind your interest and actions.”

A chuckle bubbled up from her chest, and his jaw flexed in amusement, “What?” He asked with a return chuckle.

“Is it going to be silly of me to say that I love listening to you talk when you’re trying to explain what you’re thinking?” She asked hooking her fingers over the front ridge of his armor as she sat, looking down on him.

Shaking his head he grinned at her, “Of course not. I like watching you work, you like listening to me think. Both are pretty valid traits of sapiosexuals.” He remarked with an adoring expression.

A purr of approval resounded in her throat and she unwrapped her legs around him, hopped off the console, and walked over to his cot, taking the photo album with her, “Want to see what Kasumi’s been working on?” She asked as she sat down.

He walked toward her before reaching down to situate the lid onto the crate beside the cot and sat down on it instead, mildly concerned the added weight of his armor might break the thin-frame cot. Leaning over, she flipped open the cover. Fifteen minutes ticked by as they reminisced about where they were and what they were doing when a certain photo was taken. Upon reaching a photo Kasumi had taken of Garrus looking up at Shepard on their way to interrogate Harkin, a small purr resonated in his chest.

Shepard looked up at him with an intrigued expression, “That’s a happy purr. I wouldn’t have expected that in response to this photo.”

Glancing at her out of the corner of his eye, casting her in a shade of light blue through his visor, he questioned, “Hm? Why not?”

“Well…” She started with a shrug, “I just figured you’d want to forget everything about the whole Sidonis issue for good.”

He turned the page and they were both met with a couple of pictures of Shepard’s face while watching Garrus beat up Harkin somewhere behind the camera. Without answering her question just yet, he turned the page once more to reveal a picture he was pretty positive would be there… Shepard holding his hand as he sat against the wall, rifle still extended, laid cross-wise over his lap, as they sat above where Sidonis had died, “I don’t want to forget it.” He said calmly, looking back up at her. He huffed a laugh, gazing at her with adoration, “Somehow… you make everything better. Even you just _being there_ somehow made that whole situation better.”

She rolled her eyes in disbelief, with an askew grin, “What?” He asked, furrowing his brow in curiosity at her reaction.

Motioning with her free hand, Shepard emphasized, “You were mad at me all day!”

Tilting his head back and forth, he admitted, “I know that’s how it came out, and I’m sorry for that, but I think I was mostly just… confused. Honestly, Shepard. I’m genuinely glad you were there.” He said nodding back down at the photo on the page, “I’m glad you were there for Saren, for Saleon, for Sovereign, for Sidonis…” After he said it aloud he made a disgusted expression and asked aloud as his visage turned to one of sudden enjoyment, “Are all the evil forces in the world somehow connected to the letter S?”

She barked a laugh, “I don’t know, but honestly… I can’t tell you how many times I’ve wanted to call The Illusive Man, Spencer. I genuinely don’t know why, but he looks like a Spencer to me.”

“Thought everyone was calling him TIM.” Garrus prompted in return.

She tilted her head back, “Yeah, I know… but seriously, he looks like a Spencer to me, _annnd_ it would fit with the new unfortunate theme we just found. Besides _Harbinger_ , I guess. Can we give him a lame ass name instead, like… Sasquatch.”

Garrus snorted a laugh, “What the hell is a _sasquatch_?”

Shaking her head solemnly she gazed jokingly off into the distance as if recalling a memory of a ghost, “ _No one really knows_. I think it’s part of North American mythological lore.”

Amused he shrugged, “Why not. It fits. No one believes us about the reapers or collectors anyway… may as well be mythology based.”

Shepard leaned her head back and chortled several times, “I’m going to be fighting and I’ll slide into cover next to you and peek over a barricade and whisper in a really serious voice, “We’re pretty sure we found the great Sasquatch, on account of the fact that he won’t fucking shut up, but we can never really be sure until we collect some of its droppings.””

Incredulously, he turned to stare at her, “Droppings…”

Rolling her eyes she waved toward him, “Tis the point of the joke.”

Shaking his head he returned his attention to the photo album until they flipped through the whole thing and they both stared down at the picture of their first shared kiss.

“So, were you mad at Kasumi when you found out?” He asked looking from the photo to her.

Nodding, she admitted, “At first, yeah… but she explained everything and I’m really thankful she did all of this.”

Leaning closer to her a bit, he slid a finger under her chin and lifted it slightly as he spoke against her mouth, “I am too.” He commented as he flattened his hand out along her jaw.

She moved to kiss him again, but he pulled away slightly, teasing her, “It really was above and beyond her duties.” He added, eyes intently searching her own.

Leaning forward once again, she moved to kiss him and he pulled away just enough to make her pause again and she gave him a playfully frustrated gaze, “I wonder where she found the time to get these printed on such short notice-“ He said as she grabbed the front ridge of his armor and pulled him toward her, this time both of them chuckling as he fell over on top of her on the cot. With one foot on the ground, and the opposing hand landing solidly on the wall to refrain from crushing her and breaking the cot, he shook his head and grinned adoringly at her.

Supporting herself on her elbows, Shepard tilted her head back and kissed him as he sighed, bracing his free hand against the side rail of the cot, “Flirting with you is so much more fun than normal.” He commented quietly against her mouth when she pulled back slightly.

“Mm?” She questioned, relaxing her back and sinking more solidly onto her elbows, “Why’s that?”

He shook his head, “I have no idea. It just is.” Pushing away from the wall, he stood again and offered her a hand to stand up.

She took it while swinging her legs over the side and he hauled her from the cot quickly enough that after her feet briefly made contact with the floor, she was propelled upward again by a couple of centimeters. Wrapping one arm around her back he leaned forward, taking a shallow lunge as she held on to his other hand as if they’d been dancing, “Somehow, some way, I’ll find the time to learn how to really dip you in a dance.”

She huffed a laugh, “Is that a normal turian dating thing or just a random desire you’ve always had?”

He shrugged, standing them both upright, “Random desire. Every culture dances, right?”

It was her turn to shrug with an amused grin, “Dunno. Possibly. Maybe I’ll let you teach me some day if you ever meet that goal.”

His jaw flexed in a grin and he nodded to her, “I’ll count on it.”

They both stood silently for a moment, just observing one other with adoration. A wry grin curled one corner of Shepard’s mouth as she said with a somewhat alluring tone as she reached up to run a hand along the side of his face, “Let me know if you want to try out some of that _research_ before… you know.” She finished rather loose-ended, as she took her hand away from his face.

Unexpectedly, his gaze flicked momentarily toward her breasts before reconnecting with her eyes, “Maybe sooner rather than later.” He commented sincerely.

She offered a purr and in a simple gesture of adoration lowered her mouth to the front ridge of his armor, alighting it with a silent and incredibly soft kiss as she gazed up at him from under her brow. Raising her head she tilted it slightly and grinned at up him, “Sounds good to me.”

 

 

_How? Why in the fuck did **that** get to me? She kissed my **armor** , it wasn’t even me. Why was that so god damned… fuck, Shepard. _

_??????_

 

 

“I’ll let you get back to work.” She said casually as she stepped back and unlocked the door behind her.

Narrowing his eyes and dropping his chin slightly he said in a near growling tone, “Riiight… ‘Cause I’m in an excellent place to optimize firing algorithms right now…”

With a wry grin she whispered, “I believe in you.” As the doors closed between them.


	27. 27. October, Garrus, Shepard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Author's note:  
> These next few comments may be confusing. Assuming you've already read, specifically, chapters 14 and 20 [before] 17/05/2019, please make sure you read my comments at the very end of chapter 26 before continuing; otherwise, some details may be confusing.
> 
> My apologies for any potential confusion. If you started reading this story on 17/05/2019 or later, feel free to disregard the previous comments. 
> 
> Cheers <3

 

[2185, Sol System month of “October”; Hagalaz]

 

 

Liara turned to glance in her direction as Shepard entered the massive room before returning her gaze to the current task on the massive screen before her, “Shepard!” She exclaimed, “I’m so glad you stopped by.”

Shepard grinned and hefted a bag in her hand, “Brought something for you.”

Turning to look at her again, Liara noticed the alcohol bag in Shepard’s hand, “By the goddess, you’re a gem. Thank you.” She said with a breathy thankful tone bracing one hand on the desk beside her with a relieved slump of her shoulders.

“You doing alright?” Shepard asked as she walked toward her, glancing around the fairly empty room.

Liara nodded in acknowledgement but kept her gaze fixated on the bottle as Shepard brought it out of its bag, “I don’t know if my predecessor sat on the ground or what… He probably could with his size, but I’m getting a chair in here as quickly as possible. My back is _killing me_.” She said slumping down until she sat on the floor, back braced against the desk.

“Yeah, I figured. Pretty much everyone on the Normandy stands all day for their work too. I have no idea why. We definitely have the funds to get bolted chairs for everyone…” Realization circled around her neck and she sighed, “I’m an awful boss aren’t I?”

Liara grinned and accepted the bottle as Shepard held it out to her after removing the cork with the corkscrew she’d brought with her, “Forgive me, Shepard.” Liara said as she tipped the bottle to her mouth.

Shepard shook her head as Liara handed the bottle back and she did the same, “Same boat, sister.”

Both of them took a deep sigh before Liara rolled her head to the side to look at Shepard, “Would you like to join me in ordering chairs?”

Shepard nodded, staring momentarily at her hand wrapped around the neck of the bottle as it rested on her thigh, “Yeah. I should probably make them absolutely top-notch, like capable of shifting height, transformable so they can easily remove the back if for some reason they simply want a stool instead of a chair-“

“I can order that for you _right away_ , Shadow Broker!” The little floating AI present when they’d first gotten there exclaimed happily.

Liara grinned as she stood, offering Shepard a hand to stand as well, “This is Glyph.” She explained as Shepard grasped her hand and stood next to her, resting the bottle on the desk surface.

“Hello, Glyph.” Shepard said with an amused grin.

“Hello, Shadow Broker! My query shows you would like to order chairs with several custom specifications. May I aid you through the process?”

Liara grinned fondly at the little drone, “He’s so enthusiastic for the person he was previously assigned to.”

Shepard grinned, “I totally expected him to have one with a deep voice and an accent that made him sound like Harbinger or Sovereign or something, but no, cute, happy to help, enthusiastic little drone… Uh… Sure, Glyph, I’d appreciate the help.”

“The options available to you with the previously mentioned specifications are now on the screen before you.”

Liara grinned over at Shepard, hefting the bottle once more in her hand and pointing behind her, “I’ll find some crystal.”

Shepard nodded as Liara left the room and gazed up at the massive screen before her.

 

Two hours later Shepard and Liara were seated on a couch, the screen-of-chairs floating before them. Shepard lifted her goblet and took another sip of the wine she’d brought, “Good god, I hope that’s everyone…” She commented gesturing at the screen with her glass. The motion startling Liara who had been leaning against her shoulder, clearly exhausted.

“Have you been sleeping well?” Shepard asked glancing sidelong at the asari leaning against her.

Liara sighed and put her hands to her face, shaking her head, “I never know what time or day it is anymore and the hours just keep ticking by.”

Shepard snorted, leaning forward to set the glass on the table between them, “You have an entire screen dedicated to every possible time zone and date on every planet you’ve got agents in.” Shepard commented amused.

A yawn stretched Liara’s face forcefully before she leaned back and laid her head on the back ledge of the couch, “It took me quite a while in the first “day” or so to find the universal message he used to push out to let his agents know he was busy and would be unreachable. Can you believe-“ She started, sitting up again and yawning once more, finishing the yawn with a disapproving sound, “-he had time-stamps of every time he broadcast that message.”

“Which time stamps?” Shepard asked grinning and lacing her hands on her stomach.

“His home planet. Parnack.” She said simply. After a pause, staring blankly at the table, Liara commented, “Shepard, the yahg, while admittedly very violent, are actually incredibly intelligent.” She gazed across the room with a distant expression, “They have a mental adaptability and general problem solving skill that can easily rival a Salarian genius in his prime, then on top of that, it’s nigh on impossible to lie to one because of natural incredible skill in reading body language.” She finished gesturing forward with an air of hopelessness, “What in the world made me think I could take the place of a _yahg_ _Shadow Broker_?!” Her voice emanating a strained higher pitched exclamation.

Shepard shrugged, “I mean, you’ve dominated most Salarians mentally for over a century. If that’s the basis we’re comparing all this too, I think you’ve already submitted your résumé.”

A calming kind of acceptance washed over her and a flicker of confidence returned to her tense expression, “You really think I can do all this as well as he did?”

Turning to face her a bit more, putting one arm on the top of the couch, Shepard tilted her head slightly, “You know what, Liara… _No_. I don’t think you can do it like _he did_. I think you’re going to make changes. You’ll take the tools he’s given you and you’ll alter how he managed it. You’ll assign more menial management tasks to other VIs,” she said motioning toward Glyph, “Nothing in here has to stay how you found it. You can change every bit of it if you want, but someday it’ll work really well for _you_ , and you’ll completely redefine what it takes to be the Shadow Broker.”

Liara looked over at her with hope spreading through her visage like an ink drop in water as Shepard continued speaking, “You’ll step back some day when you’ve finished reorganizing everything and grin knowing you’ve put up proper protections in place, the cogs you can control are oiled and working well… Like I said when you first thought about taking over this place… you love digging up history, sifting through mysteries, and you’re now in the best kind of field laboratory you could possibly hope for. Endless funding. Unsurmountable numbers of volunteers and employees. It’s rough when you take over a project for any superior officer, but this is your show now. Not his.”

Shepard picked her glass off the table and held it toward Liara, “Now, I’m going to go take a look at all these planetary resources you’ve found. If you haven’t already, deploy that “I’m busy” sign to all your agents and chill for a bit. Let Glyph know you’re going to sleep or something. At the very least go take a refreshing shower and if you manage to fall asleep I’ll let myself out.” Shepard said standing and looking down at her friend with her natural authoritative gaze.

Liara braced her free hand on the cushion beneath her and stared up with adoration at the commander, “I will, Shepard. Thank you.” Tipping the limited amount of wine in the glass back into her mouth, she swallowed, set the glass down and stood with renewed vigor, “Glpyh. I’m going to rest. Please ensure tasks already scheduled continue as planned, let active agents know I’ll be unavailable, and for unexpected tasks, ask Feron for assistance. He’ll wake me if he needs help.”

“Yes! Shadow Broker!” Glyph replied excitedly before zooming off to another portion of the room.

“Glyph knows who Feron is?” Shepard asked surprised, watching the little drone float around the room.

Liara shrugged, “I’ve gotten him to recognize who Feron and I are, but for everyone else he just defaults to Shadow Broker. I’ll get him to recognize you soon.”

Shepard chuckled and held up a hand in a stopping motion, “Definitely not a priority.”

After a moment pause, Shepard turned to walk toward the planetary monitor, but Liara took a step forward and Shepard halted her steps, “Thank you.” Liara said gently with her hands laced in front of her.

Grinning, Shepard held out her arms and Liara happily sank into them, wrapping her arms around the commander, “There’s a lot to do, I know.” Shepard said consolingly, “But you don’t have to do it all at once. You’ve got this.”

 

 

After releasing her hold on the commander and making her way up the stairs, Liara paused, looking back, “Shepard?" She waited as the commander's gaze met her own, "Congratulations on your relationship with Garrus.”

Shepard's gaze had quickly shifted from the terminal before her to Liara's little smirk of omnipotence in surprise.

 

_Of course she knows._

 

Before the door closed, Feron replaced Liara in the room, walking much more confidently than she'd expected. Pleased, Shepard noticed he was clearly much stronger and more stable than the last time she had seen him.

“Commander.” Feron said nodding respectfully.

Shepard returned the sentiments before gazing back at the planetary resource terminal before her. Moments later she snorted a laugh, “ _Uranus_ … You’ve got to be kidding me.” Tilting her head she read through the available materials and she sighed sadly and mumbled to herself, “I don’t need Helium-3 and it doesn’t have much of anything else, but damn it… We need to go to Earth for EZ and platinum… Okay, _yeah_ we’re going.”

Another hour later Shepard finished sifting through exactly where she wanted to go and what order she should travel to each for improved efficiency. An exhausted huff escaped her mouth as she saved the plan to her tablet and let it drop lazily to the couch. She needed to get back to the Normandy soon, but there were a few other things she wanted to check first.

Collapsing her tablet and sticking it in a pocket, she stood and walked toward a lone console on the side of the room. Liara had stuck an old fashioned paper note on the terminal.

Shepard squinted rather frustrated at how flawlessly Liara had managed to write in cursive English so she could read it. She’d never seen her name written so beautifully,

 

_Shepard,_

_I have saved dossiers of everyone on your current ground-crew. I thought you might like to take a look at what’s come through my feed. It updates pretty frequently, so what you see may be different from what I saw when I wrote this note, but some info will be consistent. Some of the notes included are from the previous Shadow Broker. I haven’t read them all yet. Hope you enjoy!_

_Much love,_

_Liara T’Soni_

Placing the note to the side, Shepard brought up the display and scrolled through the initial list. Everyone was there. Briefly she considered standing there to read everything, but instead forwarded the information to her tablet and attempted to ignore the buzzing that emanated from her back pocket as each one arrived individually instead of in one file.

Amused, she turned to bid farewell to Feron before she marched back to the Normandy, letting Liara keep the rest of the wine bottle.

 

\---

 

Shepard leaned back against her pillows as she picked up a sandwich in one hand, her tablet in the other. After about forty-five minutes of speed reading later, she finally clicked on the profile she’d saved for the very last.

 

 

> [Garrus Vakarian] - Turian

> > Former C-Sec officer

> > Exceptional tactical and team-building skills

> > Leadership potential overshadowed by [Normandy]-Commander: [Shepard]

> > Unlikely to fully develop under Shepard's command

 

 

Shepard nodded emphatically as she read the text, “Accurate.” She stated in agreement through a bite of her sandwich.

Scrolling further down into the file she came across the most recent correspondence he’d had with someone off-ship. A part of her momentarily felt guilty for wanting to read it. Besides a casual conversation between Miranda and her sister, this was the first personal message she had access to. Without scrolling down the page much further she saw the time stamp and the formal greeting, and sighed hoping he’d forgive her someday if it was something he’d never wanted her to know.

Scrolling further down the page she began reading,

 

 

Mr. Vakarian,

 

On behalf of Helos Medical Institute, I would like to thank you for your efforts. It has been understandably difficult to get Collector tissue, given the sensitive situation in the human colonies, so the samples you sent to us have been extremely helpful. Please also offer my sincere thanks to Dr. Solus -- I understand he made some calls to the Special Tasks Group, and as a result, our corporate security clearance was upgraded.

Your concern about Corpalis Syndrome is well-founded. While rare, it's an ugly disease. The neurological degeneration is both difficult to witness and nearly impossible to halt. We are in fact working on some test trials for a new treatment, and I believe that with our new STG clearance, we can get all fees for trial members waived as a governmental cooperation effort with the Turian Hierarchy.

Thank you again for your assistance. Donations like these help keep us running. Per your request, we will keep your donations strictly anonymous.

 

Sincerely,

Dr. Jelith Kieron

Helos Medical Institute

 

 

Shepard stared down at the tablet in her hand with a forlorn expression, setting her sandwich down on the plate. Thinking back, she recalled Garrus mentioning Corpalis Syndrome once before, but she’d been focused on another aspect of the conversation and completely forgot to research its affects when the conversation ended. Several hours were at her disposal before reaching the next planet, so she began searching the causes, symptoms, and progression stages of the disease. While the application of the disease to the turian nervous system was a bit different than amyotrophic lateral sclerosis in humans, the effects seemed to be rather similar. ALS in humans also seemed to progress from beginning symptoms to death more quickly than in turians. Shepard had known two close family friends growing up who had succumbed to ALS, but both passed away within three years after diagnosis. From what Shepard was reading, Corpalis Syndrome more commonly resulted in mortality between six to nine years after diagnosis; however, while progression of Corpalis _started_ more slowly, in the very last year of the subject's life the disease would quickly degenerate the subject's health. Unfortunately, like ALS, most subjects appeared fully cognizant of their situation as the disease progressed.

Laying the tablet on her mattress, Shepard crossed her legs and sat up, placing her elbows on her knees, one hand cupped over the other while resting her chin on her thumbs, her expression furrowed with intense focus.

“EDI, how many credits do we need for fuel, probes, and installation of ship improvements?” Shepard asked suddenly, rupturing the intense silence surrounding her.

“The Normandy can hold one thousand units of fuel. Each unit is equivalent to one credit in the current monetary system. The Normandy can hold sixty probes. Five probes will cost one hundred credits. Ship improvements are currently projected to require approximately four million credits, Shepard.”

“Let’s say we just paid for the improvements, how much is left in funding?” Shepard asked before chewing the inside of her cheek again.

“It would be more simple to… After your large purchase of custom-made chairs for all staff, you are now currently in possession of just over 50 million credits, Shepard.”

If Shepard had been drinking something she may have spit it all over the floor, “EDI. I want you to donate thirty-million credits to the Helos Medical Institute on Palaven and ensure shipment of any additional collector tissue that isn’t currently being used here to the Salarian STG.”

“Yes, commander. Are there any specifications for how the funds and tissue samples are to be used?” EDI prompted.

“Yes, keep the donation anonymous, but clarify its purpose is to be used only for research and facilities improvement. None for marketing. For the tissue samples, tell the STG that any and all data collected are to be used for _medical aid_ only. If their findings apply to multiple diseases, that’s fine, but the main focus should be with Corpalis Syndrome.”

“Is there anything else, commander?”

“That’s all for now EDI, thank you.”

“Credits from your personal account have been transferred with an attached message to never announce the involvement of Cerberus, the Normandy or its crew publically.”

Shepard nodded approvingly.

“The Salarian STG has just welcomed the soon arriving influx of collector tissue samples and have accepted your terms for its use.”

“Thank you, EDI.”

“Of course, Shepard.”

 

When the room once again fell into silence, Shepard returned her gaze to the tablet and noticed a text conversation being updated between Garrus and his sister as she watched.

 

 

2208: G > Hey, glad I caught you.

2210: S > Just about to head to bed. Late my time. Where are you?

2210: G > Come on, you know I can't tell you that. Not a secure channel.

2212: S > Oh, please, Garrus. You don't have to be all secretive. Illium?

2212: G > Give it up, Sol.

2213: S > You're one to talk. Still playing at Spectre, even after all these years…

 

 

Responses went quiet for a bit, but Shepard remained seated, staring intensely at the screen. Shaking her head, her conscience momentarily got the better of her and she turned off the tablet tossing it to the end of the bed. Picking up her sandwich again, Shepard attempted to think about the other dossiers.

For about twenty minutes she was successful in distracting herself, but having finished her sandwich a while ago and nothing else pressing for her attention, she groaned and leaned over, sliding along the surface of the mattress, sticking her ass in the air to try and reach the tablet. Remaining in that position for a moment, she turned the tablet back on and saw the conversation had either paused or had finished completely.

Sitting up, she pulled her bottom lip into her mouth and whispered a hushed apology as she read through the rest of the conversation.

 

 

2216: G > How's mom?

2216: S > Last round of treatments didn't go so well.

2216: G > Damn it…

2217: S > We may try an off world center. Some salarian doctors have something that might work.  
             >> It's not covered, though.

2218: G > Of course not…  
             >> I can pay for the treatments.

2219: S > That's a nice thought. I could really use you [here], though.

2220: G > I can't… How much for the first round?

2220: S > Forget it, Garrus.

2221: G > Sol, I can pay.

 

The time stamps indicated a lull in the conversation for a few minutes and Shepard stared at the conversation with a pitying expression as she continued reading.

 

2224: S > Right… Sure you can. You lost your C-Sec job, and then dad tells me that contract job you had ended in flames.

2224: G > Yeah. It ended badly.

2225: S > Exactly, so don't give me more garbage about how you're going to help.  
             >> We don’t hear from you at all for months after your random call to dad in the middle of a crisis. We thought you [died], Garrus.  
             >> I manage to weasel a secure call to you briefly about the terrorist attack in Vallum thanks to some contacts in my new job, then you follow up by disappearing completely… [again].  
             >> You obviously can't help or won't bother.  
             >> Damn it, you haven't even bothered to sync up for video chat since you lost that damn job.  
             >> If you're ashamed to look me in the eye, then why are we even talking?  
             >> Go have your fun doing merc work or screwing around or whatever. Just don't act like you care.

 

 

Shepard held one balled up fist over her mouth, eyes intensely boring a hole in the screen as she read.

 

 

2230: G > You're right, Sol. I'm sorry.

2232: S > No, I'm sorry. Things are rough with mom. The salarians are expensive as hell.

2233: G > I wish I could help.

 

Shepard slammed both hands flat on the mattress and exclaimed aloud, “What are you doing?! Garrus… noooo.” She finished with a pained groan that only intensified as she read his next comment.

 

2234: G > I'm going on a trip. Might be away from the relays for a while.

2235: S > Another pleasure cruise?

2236: G > You know me.

 

“You know me?” Shepard spoke aloud, looking around at the room like she was gesturing to a crowd to indicate how incredibly confused she was, “ _You **know** me_? He just accepted it?! Garrus…” Her voice strained, confused, pained, “What the absolute fuck?”

 

 

2238: S > Send me something nice.

2238: G > I'll be in touch when I can.

 

 

Shepard’s eyes flicked to the time, but the programmed time stamp the previous Shadow Broker set to match Parnack contrasted with the time on her tablet and didn’t help her figure out how long had passed since Garrus and his sister stopped talking. 

 

“ _You know me_.” Shepard whispered to herself once more, grasping the sides of her head with her hands. “What does his family really think of him?” She asked staring across the room in confusion and sadness.

Her emotions told her to run down there and ask him what went wrong... ask him to explain his sister’s reactions and his unwillingness to explain what he was doing to help, what war he was fighting... _something_ , but… this conversation wasn’t supposed to involve her at all to begin with.

“I knew I’d regret reading this.” She said casting her hands a foot or so in the air above the mattress in resignation. “I knew it! And I was right…” A loud sigh escaped her mouth as she leaned over and whispered into the mattress, “At least they have more money and tissue samples now.”

 

A message buzzed on her tablet and she picked her head up to look at it.

 

From: Jelith Kieron

Commander Shepard,

 

I hope this letter finds you well despite your valiant fight against the collectors. This message was admittedly composed in a state of emergency, so please forgive any informalities. We have just received an incredibly generous sum of credits from your _personal_ account and want to ensure that this amount (thirty _million_ : 30,000,000) was intentional.

In no way do we wish to seem unappreciative, but it is in our best interest to confirm this contribution was completed correctly and that you are aware of the strikingly high value of your donation.

 

Thank you for your time,

Dr. Jelith Kieron

Helos Medical Institute

 

 

Shepard vaulted off her bed with one hand, boosting herself towards the stairs as she slid toward her terminal, hands landing on the keyboard moments later typing furiously in confirmation that the amount was intentional, and that the tissue samples sent to the STG were to be shared directly with their institute. She was careful to take full ownership of the donation so as not to unintentionally rope any organization or person into a potentially complicated legal situation in the future. She also ensured no mention of the Vakarian family was included in her correspondence. Garrus clearly already wanted to keep his involvement a secret.

 

When her back and forth messaging with Jelith, her bosses, and the CEO of Helos Medical Institute finally came to a close, she sighed and realized she’d completely forgotten to sit down. Leaning over like that for about thirty minutes straight made her groan as she stood up fully, lifting her arms in the air, accompanying everything with a yawn.

Mid yawn, another email made a little ‘ping’ in her inbox. Looking down at it open mouthed as she finally finished her yawn, she saw it was from Garrus with no title and only a simple message,

 

Shepard,

Would you mind stopping by when you have a chance?

 

Thanks,

Garrus

 

She instantly started chewing the inside of her cheek wondering if somehow he knew about this… maybe Jelith thought it would be kind to let Garrus know his mother was going to be getting better medical attention from now on. _Maybe_.

 

 

Ideas on what she should say flooded her mind as she walked down the hall to the Main Battery, but one thought in particular repeated over and over.

 

_Please don’t be mad, please don’t be mad, please don’t be mad…_

 

\---

 

From: Jelith Kieron

 

Mr. Vakarian,

 

We would like to inform you an anonymous sponsor recently donated thirty _million_ credits in support of our program.

While they specifically requested we not announce their contribution publically, due to your strenuous circumstance, I found it appropriate to let you know your mother will now be under our intensive care. Her medical costs have been completely covered by the afore mentioned third party and the research focused on finding a cure for her condition will undoubtedly increase.

 

Best wishes,

Dr. Jelith Kieron

Helos Medical Institute

 

 

Breath left him completely and he sank to his knees in front of the console forehead resting against the edge.

 

 _Shepard…_ His mind whispered immediately. _It was you wasn’t it?_

He dry-sobbed, taking a deep breath and trying to swallow past the lump in his throat before he _actually_ started crying.

_Mom might not survive anyway, but you just gave her a chance._

 

 

\---

 

 

When the doors opened he was already facing her, leaning against the console with one ankle crossed over the other. As she stepped into the room, he closed the doors behind her and his jaw repeatedly twitched. She couldn’t quite tell if it was in frustration, stress, happiness…

 

“It was you, wasn’t it?” He asked simply, staring down at her with a reserved expression.

Still unsure of what specific situation he might be referring to… for all she knew it was something completely different, she offered, “Can you be more specific?”

“Helos.” He said shortly, “It was you.”

Raising her hands in front of her as a defense, she looked at him with the most guilty wide eyed expression he’d ever seen on her face, “I was just- I saw from Liara’s terminal-“ She started, looking down and to the side, unable to hold his gaze for the moment, “I shouldn’t have done anything without talking to you first. Maybe it was impulsive, I don’t know, but I don’t need that many credits- I’m… sorry.” She finished in a whisper, gaze slowly wandering back up to his face.

 

He’d never seen her drop her gaze like that, much less stutter and cut her sentences in such a jagged line.

If a CO, or perhaps _anyone else_ , had said the same thing in the exact same way to her, she would have staunchly defended her position, _maybe_ apologized, but done so with a resolute expression knowing she’d made the right call. Here… in front of him, he saw her fold under pressure.

How highly did she hold his opinion of her? It wasn’t even just the _logical_ opinion… she was factoring in the emotional opinion. The thought of him being furious with her had now _twice_ caused her to become uncharacteristically sensitive.  Despite his own inner turmoil, he was unable to ignore his habitual analysis of her body language.

He remained silent, allowing the seconds to tick forward as he continued to watch her, his gaze scanning her face, until it clicked. The expression she was giving him now was the same one he’d seen on their first few missions after her resurrection. That internally unrecognized fear of abandonment.

 

 

Swallowing forcefully he fought the tears that stung his eyes. Taking a step forward he attempted to still his breathing, endeavoring to postpone succumbing to the hurricane in his mind... the pain he felt from his sister’s conversation to the overwhelming thankfulness he felt towards Shepard’s generosity... all of it crashing around him, tossing his mind around in tumult.

Huffing a laugh as tears he hadn’t wanted to let go fell from his face onto his arm as he reached toward her slowly, he whispered hoarsely, “This whole thing with playing favorites is getting a little out of hand, Shepard.”

Realizing he wasn’t mad, she fell forward, wrapping her arms as far around his torso as she could manage and he tilted his head back, exhaling forcefully, and trying his best to maintain any semblance of composure.

“How the hell do you even have that many credits?” He asked squinting back down at her with a conflicted expression.

She offered a small chuckle and shook her head, “It’s awful that I have absolutely no idea. Intergalactic credits seem to have a lower net value than the few global credit systems on Earth, so the value seems higher than I’m sure it really is, but still…”

He nodded, “Still, indeed.” Sighing again he gazed at her with an intense kind of affection that was laced with loss, pain, hope, sorrow, joy, thankfulness…

 

She appeared to want to say something else, but was clearly hesitating, “Hm?” He asked simply, running a hand through her hair.

In response to his question, she began chewing the inside of her lip and he grinned at her fondly, waiting patiently until she said slowly, “I was reading through the dossier the Shadow Broker before Liara compiled on you and the email and text list updates live.”

He instantly understood what she meant and he nodded, “Yeah…” Uncertain of what else there was to say.

With a pained expression, Shepard released her hold on him and took a step back, “Why didn’t you tell her you’re _not_ just… caravanning around space for the fun of it?” She queried, crossing her arms casually.

Gesturing with a lifted hand somewhat dismissively, he explained, “When you’re around someone for a long time, you form natural expectations and opinions…” He began looking over at the wall for a moment before shifting his gaze to the floor then back up to her, “Then… you know, they get stuck in this rut and believe that no matter how much you change, you never really do. My dad actually seems to be a bit more reasonable for _once_.” He said with a tense huff of a laugh, “Dad kicked me out all those years ago _expecting_ me to change, Solana… I don’t know, maybe she’s just more bitter about the whole scenario.” A shrug accompanied his ending statement as he gazed down at Shepard with a despondent expression.

“It’s tough when the willingness to accept change is only one-sided.” Shepard supported with a sideways nod of her head.

He slowly nodded in agreement, “Exactly. Plus… well, everyone’s calling this mission toward the Omega 4 relay our suicide mission. I guess I didn’t feel like trying to prove her wrong. Maybe if we make it out on the other side of this, I’ll meet with her. Tell her the truth.”

Both of them shared a mutual moment of thoughtful silence before Shepard looked up at him with a wry grin, “In the dossiers I saw the specs of that fancy visor of yours. I recall it has a kill counter that can apply to yourself _and_ those in your _team_ …” She commented turning the side of her face toward him and looking up at him with a playful expression.

Grinning at her he nodded, “Sure does. Just so you know, our average is about equal.”

“You’ve synced to my suit already?” She asked staring at him with curious alarm.

Shrugging he commented, “I mean… yeah. Couldn’t let you one-up me, Shepard.”

Her expression shifted and he immediately attempted to decipher its meaning before she next spoke and made it obvious, “Couldn’t let me one-up you… Does that also apply to interactions _off_ the battlefield, Vakarian?” She asked squinting at him with a mischievous grin.  

Offering he purr he stepped closer to her and looked away coyly before pointedly meeting her gaze once more, “Now _that_ was a proper challenge, Shepard.”


	28. 28. October, Benefactor, Mordin

\---

 

“Commander, you have an urgent call waiting for you.”

Shepard’s shoulders dramatically drooped and she gazed up at Garrus with an apologetic expression. Offering a sympathetic grin, he affectionately rested a hand on her back as she turned toward the door and stated resolutely, “I’m on my way. Thank you, EDI.”

“It’s a video call, and the caller requested you take it in your private quarters.” EDI clarified as Shepard’s determined stride resounded on the metal floor.

Her visage set firmly in her typical no-nonsense deep-thinking expression, she asked for clarification, “Is it from Hackett?”

“I am unable to decipher the identity or location of either the caller or the transmission ID.”

Anxiety pinched her stomach lightly as she hit the elevator button to ascend, “Do you have any information on the approximate location of the broadcast?”

“Yes, however, it has several layers of proxies… and… Shepard?”

The way EDI said her name gave her pause, “Yeah?”

“The original transmission? It is highly probable it’s from the Bahak System… The star system you recently destroyed.”

Shepard’s brow furrowed even more intensely as she stood outside her room and mumbled, ‘ _Yeah got it, EDI. Destroyed. Reapers at the Alpha Relay. Bad shit. Not like I’m going to **forget**.’_ before commenting more audibly, “I thought you just said they had multiple proxies.”

“If only I weren’t a quantum AI, Shepard. I am stating with relative certainty, the transmission is from within the Bahak System.”

Exhaling forcefully and staring pointedly at the ceiling Shepard commented, “Please for the love of anything that is holy, tell me it’s not from the Viper Nebula.”

“You may be thankful to hear, I am unable to pinpoint its _exact_ location.”

Shepard pressed a fist against her door with a very light ‘bmm’ sound, “ _Great_ …” The door opened and she stepped inside, bringing up the live feed.

The image that greeted her was a solid black background, with the face of an unmarked turian female on it.

“Commander Shepard.” The calm feminine voice declared. As she spoke, the image of the turian disappeared and was quickly replaced by a human male, “I understand your confusion. This will likely be one of the few times you hear from me.” The image switched to a salarian male, “The reapers are coming, and they have little regard, if any, for you and your efforts to stop them.” Shepard furrowed her brow, a bit skeptical as to the _point_ of this conversation…

The image before her continued to change race, gender, and species, but the voice remained a pleasant feminine tone, “I will do what I can to aid you in the future with your pursuit to end their destructive cycle, but for now you should know there is another project, nearly completed in development, with the hopes of relocating a sustainable portion of our most well-developed races to another galaxy, where maybe one day our children might live on in peace. Our goal is to avoid repeating the mistakes of the Protheans, and if that means evacuation, then we need to be prepared to take that step.”

Shepard’s brow remained creased, her naturally skeptical nature attempting to decipher the true motivations behind the multi-faced voice. She already had so many questions, but the first and probably least important one made its way out of her mouth first, “How have I not heard about this _project_?”

The voice spoke with a politely amused tone, “You’ve been a little _busy_ , Commander Shepard, and you have not yet been included as an officer in the need-to-know task force. I am hoping to expedite your clearance on this project soon, but it has been taking longer than I’d hoped as the process was rescinded upon your confirmed death in ‘83.”

Leaning her hands on the counter, Shepard desperately attempted to filter her thoughts enough to actually pose an intelligent question, but the unknown woman spoke first, “Our current goal is to officially launch within the first six months of 2186. I am forwarding you unclassed information on the project. You’ll most likely have a lot of questions afterward. In a few weeks I will contact you again to answer those when I can.”

“Wai-wai-wait…” Shepard commented, a bit irked, waiving her hand in front of her face, “I know you just said you sent me information, but I want to hear you confirm a few things first.” Without giving her the option to decline, Shepard continued speaking, “There’s a massive project to transport enough of _our_ galaxy’s top races to begin starter colonies in _another_ galaxy, and you say it’s because of the **reapers**. A project of _this_ scale would have had to start _decades_ ago. How in _hell_ , did anyone know about the reapers all that time ago, and know _enough_ to convince every government currently recognized by the council to agree to ship their people off on it?” Shepard queried with a very pointed expression, “Pardon my curt tone, but when _I_ told the council about the reapers they kept saying I was crazy, completely denying their existence, ignoring blatant evidence, even when one finally showed up on their _roof_ they dismissed it barely even a month later claiming it was a _geth_ ship. Now I hear _you_ convinced them of reapers _and_ collected the funds and scientists needed for a multi-century jump to another galaxy with their best and brightest by… what? Asking pretty please?” Shepard fell silent, now willing to hear the woman explain herself.

“Unfortunately, no, Commander.” The woman said solemnly before making sure Shepard heard and understood her next words in the directive tone they needed to be received in, ”This project began with bright, curious, exploratory, _dreams_. All participants are looking toward a _bright future_ for our peoples in an _exciting_ new galaxy.” She paused before offering a small sigh, “As you’ve discovered, no government organization will accept the presence or potential impact of the Reapers. You, I, and other affiliates know otherwise, but if this project were to ever be associated with the fear of reapers, the overwhelming multi-species support this project has procured over the years would likely be crushed in an instant.” The voice paused as the pictures continued to change, “I called you now, Commander Shepard, to ensure you were familiar with this _amazing feat of science_ , and for all intents and purposes, I needed to contact you directly to ask you to be discreet regarding its true objective.”

Shepard took a deep breath, momentarily running her gaze thoughtfully over the desk before looking back up at the screen, “How did you know about the reapers?” Shepard asked pointedly.

The voice didn’t hesitate, “We’ve been following the collective work of scientists like your friend Dr. T’Soni for a very long time. As one person it’s difficult to see the pathways the data may follow while only holding a few clues in your hands at any given moment. When you’re capable of accessing the information held in the hands of hundreds of thousands, even millions of scientists… Connecting the dots becomes far simpler.”

“You have fully functioning unshackled AI…” Shepard said definitively, looking at the screen with a fervent expression.

“Until I finalize your profile as need-to-know I cannot legally confirm or deny that statement.” The speaker relayed.

Shepard crossed her arms and stared up at the ever changing species slideshow on the screen before her, “I don’t put it past your initiative to have developed or partnered with an organization adept at developing and implementing new research _under_ the intergalactic legal radar, and I’m assuming you have. In which case, I’m very impressed with what I’m beginning to think you’ve accomplished.”

“Thank you, Commander. My apologies for needing to be so discreet.”

Nodding resolutely, Shepard stated calmly, “I’ll have more questions later I’m sure, but thank you for contacting me.”

“Of course. Is there anything else you’d like to know now while we’re both here? I’ll do my best to answer them.”

Chewing the inside of her cheek for a moment, Shepard stared down at her desk, sifting through her thoughts, “Is there anything you need from me?” She asked stepping back, crossing her arms, and leaning against the wall behind her, “If the initiative has a solid plan for deployment in a few _months_ I doubt there’s much I can do, but…” She trailed off, motioning with an open hand.

“You can be a great help, Commander. This is the second reason I called you. The Andromeda Initiative’s survival requires a _positive outlook_ by its potential beneficiaries. A curious and _exciting_ prospect amidst the fast-approaching darkness. We don’t know the exact date of the reapers’ arrival, but we have a rough estimate, especially with your recent work in the Bahak System… hopefully it’s enough.”

Shepard nodded, “So from my end, don’t draw attention to the initiative, definitely don’t associate it with the reapers, and do my best to fight them regardless.”

“Yes.” The speaker paused momentarily, “Commander… I have no authority over you to demand any of your actions, but thank you for fighting so hard for this galaxy’s survival. I, and all of us in the Andromeda Initiative, sincerely hope you succeed and the Milky Way endures, but in the potential circumstance it doesn’t… thank you so much for never giving up. You’ve inspired so many people in the Initiative.”

Shepard simply nodded resolutely, unsure of what else to say.

“Commander Shepard, it was an honor to meet you even though I am not permitted to reveal my identity, but I have other matters to attend to, as I’m sure you do. Thank you for being willing to speak with me. I’ll be in touch soon to answer any further questions and by that time you should be approved as need-to-know. So, classified answers and processes will be fully available to you.” She paused momentarily before pleasantly commenting, “Goodbye, Commander.”

 

As soon as the call ended Shepard clicked on her mail to read the unclassed project dossier the informant sent her. Twenty minutes later when she’d read the whole dossier and any additional pertinent information she could find via extranet, she sighed, stretching, while staring at her collection of ship models.

Hope flickered in her stomach. The strange nature of this Andromeda Initiative on one hand made her apprehensive. It was possible the whole thing was a scam, but the informant was aware of the reapers, what they did, their impact on the Protheans, and what it might take in order to survive their arrival. There was probably no guarantee of it _working_ , but the thought of _anyone_ other than her trying to combat the difficult situation their galaxy was in… Undeniably, it was reassuring. If all else went to hell, dying, knowing that the Andromeda Initiative at least _tried_ …

“Please let it be true.” She whispered quietly at the tiny chrome memorial of the Destiny Ascension.

Staring at the ship rendition, guilt pulled at her spine from within her torso, sending hot blood to her lower body, and chilling her hands. Rubbing them together slightly, she turned away from her terminal and walked back toward the elevator, inhaling deeply as she descended to the CIC. Upon arrival, she quickly checked with the yeoman if there were any updates. When none presented themselves, Shepard meandered toward Mordin’s lab, to her surprise just as she entered, Mordin’s face lit up and he exclaimed, “Shepard!”

“ _Mordin_?!” She questioned with hesitant return excitement.

“Wanted to talk. Medical matters.” He said nodding emphatically as he came around the side of his desk to stand before her, to ensure they could speak uninterrupted by his work.

“Is everything alright?” She asked wide eyed wondering if Mordin was possibly concerned he might be dying mid-mission, or Thane… or anyone else for that matter.

“Of course!” He reassured, blinking at her a bit surprised, “ _Aware_ that mission is _dangerous_.” He began motioning with his hands conversationally, “Different species react differently to stress.” Uncharacteristically, Mordin’s speech was a bit less _official_ than normal, but his comfortable purely-science-less-conversational side kicked in as he continued speaking, “Sexual activity normal stress release in humans _and_ turians. Still, recommend caution. Warn of _chaffing_. May need analgesic later.”

Shepard’s eyes were wide again, but for a completely different reason, “Oh!” She quietly exclaimed, probably blushing brightly, “ _Hoooow_ did you know?” She asked searching his face with awkward curiosity.

“Obvious.” He said squinting at her amused, “Pheromones. Pupil dilation. Heart rate. Data analyzed… noticeable _direct_ correlation to interaction. _Time_ spent in propinquity. Crew-mate reports. Attentiveness attributed to _requisite_ , as doctor. Ensure intimate interaction not initially irrespective of _either_ individual.” He paused a moment and considered what he’d just said and smiled amused, “Alliteration… Hm- _Already_ spoke with Garrus.”

A snort of a laugh escaped her nose at the thought before she cleared her throat and nodded respectfully, “Do you have any recommendations as a doctor?”

“Turians based on _dextro_ -amino acids.” He began, tilting his head slightly at the word to emphasize its significance.

Shepard nodded unsure if she should tell him what she already knew or wait for him to tell her. She opted to stay quiet, “Human ingestion of tissue _could_ provoke _allergic_ reaction. Stomach pain, throat swelling, light stinging sensation of soft tissues. Likely negligible. Anaphylactic shock _possible_. Statistically implausible. For security maybe don’t…” He offered a small amused quirk of a grin before clearing his throat lightly, “ _ingest_.” He accompanied with a casual motion toward her with an open hand. If the blush on her face had managed to dissipate, most likely it rose in full force once again at his words.

“Also, forwarding advice booklet to your quarters. Valuable diagrams, positions comfortable for both species, erogenous zone overviews. Can supply oils or ointments to reduce discomfort. Gave EDI electronic relationship aid demonstration vids as necessary.”

Her hands were cupped over her mouth now, attempting to hide her cheeks from view, and suppress any anxious laughs that may try to escape. Inhaling deeply, attempting to maintain composure, she nodded to him and said fondly, “Mordin, I don’t know how to explain this really, but your support as a doctor and a friend _genuinely_ means a lot to me, thank you.”

The first genuine smile she’d ever seen on his face curled the corners of his mouth then and he nodded to her respectfully, “Enjoy yourself while possible, Shepard. Will be here… studying cell reproduction. Much simpler. Less… _alcohol_ and _mood_ _music_ required.”

Since Mordin had already breached the topic, Shepard asked as he walked back around to the normal side of his desk, “Do you mind if I ask you some more questions about-”

“-Not at all.” He said already bending down to look in his microscope.

Nervously she picked lightly at the edge of one of her nails, “I couldn’t… Okay, I have a general understanding of how DNA works and such, but it would be comforting to hear from a professional… There’s absolutely no chance I could get pregnant… _right_?”

“None.” He stated in a matter-of-fact tone, “Unless artificially inseminated with genetically altered spermatophore to match levo-DNA structure while maintaining…” He looked up at the ceiling clearly contemplating this seriously, “It’s entirely possible artificially. Naturally, no.” Gaze once again returning to her briefly, he confirmed his conclusion with a resolute nod.

“Would I get sick if he… _you know_.” She rotated her hands around one another now somewhat regretting starting this line of questioning.

She silently thanked a higher power that Mordin was so good at filling in the questions himself as he replied, “Possible. Not likely. Minor allergic reactions as described before. Be _surprised_ if anything more serious.” He looked up from his work narrowing his eyes at the wall across from him, “Scientific community improperly catechize general public. Think… _any_ exposure equates _death_. Misconstrued. Viable… _Happened_ … but paucity. _Not_ majority. Likelihood of survival _in your favor_.” Nodding, pleased with his conclusion he once again returned his attention to his work, but indicated with a slight motion of his hand as an opening for Shepard to continue asking questions if she so desired.

“Okay, I was afraid to look this one up on the internet, and since we’re already here I may as well ask you, do turians even have dicks?” She asked now feeling suddenly more casual than uncomfortable.

“Yes. Slightly different in shape.” He replied simply.

“By slightly, do you mean like _bifurcated_ or something?” She asked with a slight wince.

Mordin shook his head, turning around to check on another experiment, “No no no. Single shaft.” He answered before adding additional details to a question she’d probably have thought of later, “Comparatively larger volume of ejaculate, more total fluid… more _powerful_ orgasm upon evulsion. Sperm capable of survival within same-species mate for multiple weeks with slow progression toward egg upon ovulation.”

“Why is that?” She asked pulling up a stool and sitting down. It was less about the situation and more about the science now and Shepard genuinely enjoyed scientific discussions with someone who knew more than she did.

Mordin turned around, speaking as if he wasn’t paying full attention to what he was saying anymore, “Human female highly acidic, efficiently killing defective sperm. _Turian_ female less so. Human sperm naturally-selected for speed. Turian more so for endurance.” Raising a micro-pipette he dropped a few microliters of something into several test tubes, “Evolutionary history suggests turian society _once_ polygynous… potential cause for difference in ejaculate among older vs younger male populations.” He said looking back up at her, tilting his head back and forth as he considered his words, “Statistical survivability of offspring shifted societal priorities. Multi-species enhanced research in modern medicine. Safer environments. Stronger governments.” Nodding his head to emphasize his next words, he continued, “ _Polygyny,_ less common. Reported _inversely proportional_ to monogamy in last four millennia.”

Attempting to keep track of all the info he was throwing at her, she prompted a point she wanted him to clarify, “You said something about a difference between older and younger turians?”

He shook his head, “Old… _Dead_. Mostly speculation. Miniscule correlation reported. Difference minimal at best.”

Shepard looked up at the ceiling, trying to recount everything he’d already told her, “So…” She started not quite ready to finish her question, “since turians used to be polygynous, I’m assuming they had a natural way to compete with sperm already in a recently-mated female?”

Nodding, he looked back up at her again, “Forceful initial climax. Ensuring furthest reach of sperm capsule into female counterpart. Higher volume of fluid after initial ejaculate.”

Tilting her head in thought Shepard speculated, “Meaning they would _wash out_ a competing male’s sperm?”

“Correct.” He confirmed taking the test tube rack toward a rotator and placing each carefully labelled tube in a free slot, ensuring the rotator was evenly balanced before closing the lid.

“What did you mean by sperm _capsule_?” Shepard asked wincing while mentally picturing a clear miniature bullet.

As if listing off the worlds strangest requisition form he counted off, “Pliable-walled microscopic capsule ensures maximum distance travelled within mate. Imperceptible to partner… Not painful.” He clarified looking at her with a slight nod, “Casing sticks to inner wall of female. Immediately after, fluid begins to dissolve accompanying capsule. Before casing completely dissolves, fluid inundates genetic material of _competing_ male, increasing likelihood of passing on _own_ genetic code.”

Shepard huffed an impressed laugh, “I’ll tell you, Mordin… If I could do everything all over again, I’d go to a university and graduate with as many degrees in science as I could stand. Sometimes I really wish I could have benefitted from a more formal education.”

Mordin nodded, “Several doctorates would suit you.”

A little smile graced Shepard’s face, “Thanks, Mordin. I’m no genius so maybe not several _doctorates_ , but… thanks for the vote of confidence, and for taking the time to talk to me in general.”

Offering a small grin he nodded in respect, “Of course. Ointments in the box behind you. Take several. Have more work to do.” He started with a gentle tone, “Talk again later, Shepard.” He said grinning at her before turning around to remove the test tubes from their finished rotation cycle.

 

Taking his advice, Shepard knelt down under the table and sifted through the various bottles, taking her three favorites and storing them in a pocket on her pant leg. She wanted to thank him again, but his back was to her, already focused on something else, so she left silently, immediately taking the elevator up to her room to store the ointments away.


	29. 29. October, Garrus x Shepard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: sexual content

 

Upon entering her room, she took a step down the stairs and immediately leapt into a defensive stance, ready to roundhouse the intruder in her living quarters despite its motionless, inoffensive presence, calmly seated on her couch, “Garrus!” She commented startled.

A clearly amused expression flickered across his face, “Shepard!” He teased, “You were busy and I figured you didn’t see my messages so I decided to wait for you.” He explained politely, watching as she took a calming breath, fixing him briefly with a playfully warning glare as she continued her path to the bedside table.

Pulling the ointments out of her pocket and placing them in the bedside table drawer she noticed a couple already rested inside, “Mordin mentioned he talked to you too.” She prompted with a grin, as she lifted the two bottles Garrus had chosen, interested in his selection.

He huffed a laugh, “Uh… _yeah_. You could call it that.”

Turning around and putting her hands on her hips she grinned at him, “Well _I_ learned a lot of _fascinating_ information about your species’ biology and evolutionary history.”

His eyes widened slightly before he furrowed his brow, “You mean you stayed and kept _chatting_ … _casually_ … with _Mordin_ about _sex… with **turians**_.” He accentuated several times, gesturing with a chopping motion with each emphasized word to prompt the absurdity of the scenario to take center stage in the conversation.

Sinking down on the edge of the bed, letting her hands slap against her knees, Shepard sighed, now processing how strange it really was before she defended lightly, “Well, Mordin’s really knowledgeable and I figured it would be less awkward just asking him than talking to _you_ about it… or trying to search it on the extranet.”

He huffed a disbelieving laugh, “You thought _that_ was **_less_** awkward than searching the extranet?”

Resigning, she tilted her head back slightly, “Okay, maybe a bit more awkward, but also more _reliable_.” She said gesturing toward him with an open hand in an offer of compromise.

Nodding with an entertained grin, he agreed, “Fair enough.”

Shepard glanced absentmindedly around the room as she spoke before returning her gaze to him, “So, how long have you been waiting in here for me?”

Shrugging he tilted his head to glance the clock on the bedside table before looking back at her, “Thirty minutes or so. Not long, but after my very _brief_ conversation with Mordin, I decided to do some more of my own searching _online_ …” He casually teased.

Rolling her eyes lightheartedly Shepard pushed off the bed, taking one giant step forward, and sank down next to him on the couch, “Anything interesting?” She asked staring at the tablet he still propped up in one hand.

“Always.” He said with a polite grin as she laid her head against the side of his arm, and shoved her free hand into his Cerberus hoodie pocket.

Shepard tilted her head slightly to look up at him and asked sincerely, “Would you be more comfortable handling all of this in a one-night-stand kind of thing, or do you want to go about this like we’re…” She fumbled with her words slightly, despite her awkwardness, she attempted to finish her thought, “I guess, what I’m asking is if you’d like to sleep here with me until we go through the Omega 4 Relay, or just… prepare privately for _one_ really special night together?”

He huffed a laugh, “That… may be the first time I’ve ever had someone _ask_ if I would rather a one night stand and-never-talk-about-it-again scenario **or** a committed relationship. Like the two would be remotely comparable options.” He finished looking at her with a hint of a playfully dubious expression.

The hilarity of it made her chuckle nervously in response, “Yeah, sorry. I’m over thinking this.” She said anxiously, sitting up to lean away from him, clasping her hands together, momentarily fixing her gaze on the coffee table, and chewing the inside of her cheek at a rapid pace.

With one finger he hooked the fabric on the back of her shirt and pulled her back to him. As she fell backwards, he reached out to place one hand as support on her upper back until her head rested in his lap.

Gazing down on her fondly he grinned and purred, “I’ve wanted to ask you the same question, but _maybe_ there aren’t any answers yet.” He concluded.

Her visage brightened in a calmly delighted smile, pleased he’d also wondered the same thing, as she nodded and asked, “One step at a time?”

He stared down at her with adoration as she gazed up at him. Postponing his answer to her question, he happily let a few moments of mutual silence pass between them before lifting the hand he’d kept under her back to raise her slightly. Instinctively she reached up to hook a hand around the back of his neck and she met him in the middle with several slow kisses before he pulled back and observed her with adulation. Her own gaze regarding him with a bright-contentedness.

Letting her rest once more against his lap while gently running his fingers through her hair, he commented quietly, “Shepard… with all the time we have left, however much that is, I’ll take every step with _you_ **_proudly_**.”

Her expression shifted to a peaceful one, a calm smile adorning her face as she gazed up at him. His statement sounded more like a wedding vow, but with the likelihood of their death fast approaching, she understood its poignant significance. Searching his visage for a few moments, her eyes softened and her own countenance shifted to one of contemplation, “What’s wrong?” She asked. Noticing his clear hesitation, she sat up to face him, and she fixated on him with a gaze so open and gentle he couldn’t meet it for a moment.

His jaw flexed in slight discomfort as he attempted to organize his thoughts before answering honestly, “I- I just…” He sighed sadly and tried to calm his racing mind, “I’ve seen so many things go _wrong_ , Shepard.” His head dipped in a single nod of acceptance for his own statement before he turned his head to the side and met her gaze once again, “My relationship with my _family_. My work at C-Sec. What happened with Sidonis.” Sighing he shook his head and looked at her with the most vulnerable expression she’d ever seen in his eyes, “I just want something to go _right_. Just this once.” His eyes narrowed slightly in pain before his gaze fell away from hers once again and he repeated, “Just-“

Shepard moved forward on the couch until she sat with one shin flush against his thigh and gently reached up, taking hold of his face in both hands, softly turning his head to make him look at her. When his eyes rose to meet her own, he found hers full of all the emotion he felt and probably couldn’t properly convey, but her eyes were so comforting amidst the inner turmoil. She wasn’t looking at him with pity. It was silent _understanding_.

The pain, loss, confusion, hope, desire, longing…

For just _one_ thing to go _right_.

 

He felt her thumb run delicately across his scarred face and, en masse, memories of all the times she’d been there, _cared for him_ … since they met flooded his mind. In the last _decade_ she was probably the only person who had cared besides his own mother. Maybe that was why he’d taken her death with such difficulty. For the first time in so many years, someone _cared_ , and then _life_ took them away from him… **_again_**.

Yet here she was, resurrected, staring at him with _respect_ he didn’t deserve, admiration, adoration…

Wordlessly she tilted her head forward and rested her forehead against his, closing her eyes as she dropped her hands, one resting on his neck, the other holding on to his thumb. The gentle impact sent a calming chill down his spine and he closed his fingers gently around hers. As if overcome by sudden exhaustion, he closed his eyes in return and sighed as tension cascaded down his neck, fluttering against his back like a heat-wave, and pulling on his stomach as his heart rate slowed.

Both remained still, appreciating the shared silence for several seconds. Opening her eyes again, Shepard inhaled deeply before sighing, prompting him to look at her again as she slid the hand from his neck to his chest. Blinking slowly at first, he looked at her again, as she commented quietly, quoting a single word from something he’d said only minutes before, “ _Proudly_.” She accentuated before continuing, “Proudly, Garrus… We can go into this upcoming fight with the collectors knowing that for the first time in a long time, we get to walk through every step of the way _for and with_ one another.” 

Lifting his free hand, he reached up to gently hold her face in one hand and offered a huffed laugh of relief as an indescribable aching… a _longing-_ kind-of-happiness flowed over him. Lifting one leg over his own, Shepard straddled his lap, placing both hands once more on either side of his face and kissed him with a more earnest motivation behind it. Sighing forcefully, he opened his mouth and Shepard promptly ran the tip of her tongue along the inside edge of his mouth before he surprised her by pushing her tongue out of the way. Somewhat quickly, he slid his tongue over the surface of her own.

Her tongue was a little bit shorter and slightly less dexterous than his own, but no less skilled. His eyes opened in surprise as she lightly bit down on his tongue, closing her lips around it before pulling more of it into her mouth with suction. Her eyes opened, meeting his just as he unintentionally-quickly pulled his tongue back into his own mouth, briefly appreciating the soft feeling of her lips around it, and her own tongue beneath it as he did so. Her visage ignited in a laughing smile as she propped herself up a bit higher on her knees, her breasts just below his chin.

Fondly, he asked, “What’s got you so smiley?” As he tilted his head back and nibbled lovingly at the corner of her jaw.

She hummed pleasantly before he pulled away and she gazed at him evocatively, “ _You do_.” Kissing him on his left cheek, she slid off his lap to stand on the floor and lightly took hold of his wrist as she did so, causing him to sit forward.

As he rose to his feet, she prompted hopefully, “I’ve got the best shower on the ship. Would you like to take one with me?”

An uncharacteristic chill struck his cheek before travelling down the rest of his body like an electric shock. Nervousness? Excitement? Happiness? In response to possibly all three or more emotions, he retorted naturally with dry humor, “Is there room for two in there?” He asked leaning over to look in the general direction of her shower, purposefully pushing against her, causing her to bend backwards and slowly stumble.

Bracing his hands around her torso, he took one large step over the coffee table, shuffling her along _beside_ the table to keep her from tripping, spinning her once until she collided flush against his chest. He blinked at her and opened his mouth as if oh-so-shocked at her unintentional advances, before he fell backwards onto the bed careful to keep his head above the mattress, bringing her down with him. She laughed aloud and rolled to the side to refrain from landing on him upon descent before curling her legs fully onto the mattress and cuddling against him as he turned his head to the side to watch her fondly.

“Quite nimble of you.” She commented, with a broad smile in her eyes as she laid her head on his outstretched arm.  

He inhaled slowly and replied on the exhale, “If that isn’t the best way to announce a surprise cuddle session, I don’t know what is.” As his sentence ended he lifted his head and turned away from her slightly as his mouth opened in an unreasonably loud yawn.

Once again she snorted a laugh and shook her head, commenting while chuckling, “You’re absolutely ridiculous.”

Sardonically smacking his tongue against the roof of his mouth several times afterwards, he turned his head to lay it back down on the mattress and grinned at her, “I try.”

Planting a hand solidly on his chest while propping herself up on her other forearm, she asked with a happy tone, “You going to stay here with me tonight?”

He scrunched his face slightly, narrowing his eyes at her and hummed a contemplative tone, “I don’t know… I was really looking forward to curling up with my blanket on that fabric cot down there with the main battery and such.”

Turning her head, Shepard looked down to see his feet were still planted solidly on the floor, “Well, you look ready to go, so _shoo_.” She said lightly shoving him away from her in jest.

In response to her light shove, he dramatically rolled all the way to the foot of the bed before reaching out to her with feigned desperation as he slid slowly onto the floor. Shepard scrambled to the end of the bed, and rested her chin on the edge, arms stretched out behind her, eyes narrowed in mirth, “Ten out of ten, would shove lightly again.” She mumbled from behind the fabric of her comforter.

His tongue was hanging out the side of his mouth onto his arm, eyes half closed as if dead.

“You’re cute.” Shepard said slithering a bit further over the edge before she tipped a bit too far and slowly slid forward until her forehead came in light contact with the floor, “Ugghhh…” She moaned, “ _I lacked critical information_.” She commented amused, blinded by his hoodie as her face rested against his torso.

Pushing against the bed, Shepard tucked and rolled over him before popping back up and sitting on her heels to face him. Leaning over dramatically, chest laying on her thighs she raised a hand, extending her pointer finger and slowly poked the side of his face as he finally forcefully snorted in laughter, pulling his tongue back into his mouth and propping himself up on one forearm, “If you’re really alright with it, Shepard…” He paused dipping his chin slightly before tilting his head and gazing at her fondly, “I’d love to stay here with you.” He finally admitted.

Smiling, she nodded at him, “Good, because I want you to stay.” Shepard responded, flirting casually, "And to answer your previous question, _yes_ … there _is_ room for _two_ in there.”

“Well!” He said feigning an exasperated tone, “If you’d just _said that_ we could have avoided this _whole_ situation.” He teased.

Rolling her eyes, she grinned at him, “ _Uh huh_ … Now you wanna take one with me or not?”

“Sure, sweetie.” He replied, grinning calmly at her.

Her eyebrows raised in response and she turned her face slightly looking at him side long, “ _Sweetie_ , hm?”

Shrugging as he stood to his feet, he offered her a hand to stand as well. Hauling her to her feet he grinned, “I call it as I see it, and we’ve already discussed how you’re kind hearted, caring, intelligently curious, a bit clumsy, absolutely adorable, and all the niceties in between.”

“Clumsy!?” She gasped, “Excuse you… I am _not_ clumsy.”

His eyes widened and he motioned behind him with an open hand at the coffee table, “A few minutes ago you tripped over a coffee table _while standing still_! If that isn’t the epitome of clumsiness…” Speaking with an acting-concerned voice, he finished his open ended comment with a faux-impressed whistle, doing his absolute best to subdue the broad smile in his expression.

With an over the shoulder grin, Shepard turned her back on him and lifted her shirt over her head, dropping it on the floor as she walked toward the bathroom. He next heard her bra hit the floor as she walked behind the ship display case and his face heated considerably. He had been joking around with her to try and lighten the mood a bit, but maybe a small part of him was still stalling.

 

 _What? Are you nervous, Vakarian?_ He asked himself as he ascended the stairs toward her bathroom. _Yes… yes I am._ He replied to himself silently.

 

The rest of her clothes were already on the floor by the time he opened the sliding door. She was standing on the balls of her feet, trying to get the majority of her body as far away from the water spray as possible, reaching toward it with one hand to test its temperature.

Looking over at him she grinned, “You going to shower with all your clothes on?”

There was a part of him that realized, staring at her then, that this was an incredible display of trust on her part. A new thought he’d never really considered before bombarded his brain, most likely because he’d never had much of a high-hope for any of his relationships in the past. Shepard was standing there, excitedly waiting on him, genuinely offering this still new and strange attraction between the two of them, as a way to _comfortably_ _bond_ with one another physically. It wasn’t _sex_ , but for the first time, he realized it _didn’t have to be_.

Undressing, he kicked his clothes to the far side of the room. Hesitantly, he removed his visor, placing it safely in a cabinet door as Shepard finally stepped into the water. She’d already seen him bare chested once, but it was in the dark cargo bay in the middle of the night when it was difficult to see much of anything. He expected some kind of negative reaction, to gaze at him nervously, to hesitate to touch him, but as she opened her eyes, letting the water run over her hair, her instant reaction was to smile happily up at him. Reaching out to take hold of his hands, she pulled him into the water, immediately wrapping her arms around him in a hug.

Spirits, everything about her was so soft.

With a heavy sigh of relief he hadn’t realized he’d been holding, he dipped his head as the water from the shower now rained down on the back of his head, collecting in several streams as it ran over his face. Closing his eyes he placed a hand on the back of her head, wrapping the other lightly around her torso, holding her against him. They traded use of the warm water, but otherwise each took a fairly normal shower, gazing curiously and fondly at one another when the other’s eyes were closed or focused on something else entirely.

There was absolutely nothing about this that reminded him of previous relationships, and while a part of him wanted to be effortlessly brave and approach all of this with a fiery tenacity and unmatched skill… it simply wasn’t going to be reality. Neither of them were virgins, but _this_ was _new_. Both of them were comfortable with _appreciating_ the novelty of their scenario by taking it slowly, learning to silently treasure one another’s physical differences without a returned scrutinizing gaze. Shepard’s idea for a shower had given them both a comforting secluded environment in which to find a foothold. There was no pressure here, no expected effort to _perform_.

Shepard took hold of one of his hands, squirted a small amount of soap in it, and then placed it gently on her breast, grinning up at him encouragingly. His jaw flexed somewhat in a calm smile as he slowly stepped flush with her, causing her to back against the wall before he bent his posture slightly to kiss her, the soap now coating her breast as he gently ran a thumb over its smooth surface. Happily, she brought her hands up to his neck, raising up on the balls of her feet and trailing kisses to his cheek, then his jaw. With his head bent at that angle, he stared down at his occupied hand, watching its slow, exploratory, gentle movements. As the seconds ticked by, the more his appreciation, and desire to continue increased. Shepard’s tongue trailed along his neck and he sighed happily, raising his head, resting his chin momentarily against the wall behind her.

Washing his hand and her off with a little bit of water, he brought his hands up momentarily to hold her face, gazing down at her with admiration before whispering quietly, “Shepard, I don’t know if you’ll believe me quite yet, but I have to say you are _very_ easy on the eyes.”

She closed her eyes happily, and all but melted in his hands as she smiled up at him before opening her eyes again, “ _Thank you_. I’m glad you think so. I was trying to figure out how to tell you the same thing when I first opened my eyes but didn’t want you to think I meant it in … I mean… You are… as well.” She stuttered, chuckling at herself and blushing slightly.

As he’d previously suspected she was comfortable with letting this play out as a new experience. Both of them wordlessly agreeing to let one another explore slowly. He had no doubt in his mind once they figured it all out, things would pick up in pace, but for now… It _was **new**_ and they both were okay with letting that reality establish itself.

“Thank you.” He commented quietly in return.

It was as strange to hear it for him as he was sure it had been for her. At the same time, there was no doubt that both of them believed the other when they’d said it, but while intentions are easily believed, _convincing_ **_themselves_** of its truth was another more gradual process altogether.

Curious, he lightly kissed her forehead before kneeling down in front of her, hands now on her hips as he brought his tongue to her breast instead of his hands and he instantly heard her huff a little laugh and offer a sigh loud enough to hear over the shower spray. Looking up at her she ran a hand lovingly over his face in silent appreciation of his actions. Pleased with his choice, he continued, doing his best to read her body language from where she stood, but surprisingly soon afterwards she cupped her hand under his jaw and lightly pulled his head away from her.

Tongue sticking out of his mouth slightly, he gazed up at her with an innocent expression and she sighed happily, “If you want to keep that up, we might want to be on the _bed_.”

Standing once again he grinned, running his tongue along her cheek before speaking, “Now, was that a suggestion, an offer, or a challenge?” He teased, lightly nibbling on her ear.

“Yes.” She said with a smirk running the soft underside of her wrist over the tip of his already unsheathed dick, causing him to falter slightly and pull away from her ear. Twice she teased him with her hand and wrist. His breathing already substantially heavier than before, he willed her continue, but she smirked up at him and reached over instead to turn the water off, handing him a towel as she grabbed a new one of her own.

Shepard’s wet foot prints made a path out of the bathroom toward the bed as she dried herself on the way. Standing in the doorway, he more slowly dried himself off as he watched her walk away. Her ass shaking in a strangely alluring way with each step. Spirits… ignoring all the small details about her he was now aware of was going to be very difficult for him in upcoming fights…

Shepard flipped her head upside down as she wrapped her hair in the towel, “Are you tired?” She asked pleasantly, standing upright again and half turning to face him.

Stepping into the room then, he flipped the towel into a rope and slung it around his neck. Tilting his head back and forth and reaching both arms up in a stretch, he yawned forcefully before sighing, releasing the tension from his stretching torso and gazed back down at her from where he stood at the foot of the bed, “Not at all.” He lied playfully.

“Do you _want_ to go to sleep?” She asked dabbing a small amount of lotion on her hands as she began to rub it into the skin on her legs.

A quirk of a grin crinkled his eyes as he stomped one foot, making her gaze rise and fixate on his dick as it bounced in response, stood with feet shoulder-width apart, saluted her stiffly, and replied in the most serious voice he could manage, “Negative, Commander.”

She instantly cracked up laughing, with one leg on the mattress, she doubled over, laying her chest on it, resting her hands palm up on the mattress to keep lotion from getting all over it, “ _Oh my **god**_ … Garrus…” She started, still laughing, “I might just fall hopelessly in love with you if you keep this up.”

“Now wouldn’t that be a shame?” He asked grabbing one of the decorative pillows she never used and placed it beneath the second one already on the bed to prop himself up whenever he decided to lay down, “Commander Shepard, with all her potential, falling in love with just a simple _turian_  who found his way to the _top_ of **three** … not _one_ , not _two_ , but **three** , gang hit lists and _lived to tell about it_.”

“Only because said commander hauled your shattered and mostly _dead_ fine-turian-ass off the battle field.” She teased.

Holding his hands up in surrender, he commented, “Alright, alright, so the brave femme fatale gets the guy for _once_.”

Offering him a wry grin, she gave one last power-stroke on her leg with the lotion before quickly removing the towel from her head, throwing it on the floor she crawled across the bed to where he stood. She sat on her heels gazing up before she playfully moved her head forward and pressed her lips against his stomach in a sensual kiss as the soft underside of her chin and side of her neck ran along the tip of his dick.

An unintentional huff escaped his nose, pleased, and somewhat startled. Swallowing forcefully, he gazed down at her, as she smirked up at him.

 

_God… damn… it…_

 

With what he’d already read and watched of human sexual interactions, he couldn’t lie… That thing he thought she was eluding to with her mouth was something he’d hoped she would be willing to do.

Her warm tongue trailed along his stomach and he sighed peacefully. Almost involuntarily, he moved one hand to gently lay on her shoulder while the other wove gently into her hair as she reached up in response and braced herself, her hands firmly situated on his thighs. To his surprise he watched as she ran the soft tip of her nose over his shaft before quickly following the motion with firm but teasing lick with the broad portion of her tongue.

This was undoubtedly something he’d never experienced quite like this before, but watching her was making him somewhat dizzy as he forcefully swallowed and attempted to focus on taking deeper breaths. He offered a quiet groan as she ran her tongue from the base to the tip before she tilted her head back slightly and made eye contact with him. A quiet laugh escaped his nose as he gazed fondly down at her, running a thumb encouragingly over her cheek.

She paused her motions, gazing up at him as she worked her tongue inside of her own mouth. Looking back down at his cock in her adept hands, he watched as she placed a gentle kiss on the underside of the tip. Her name passed through his lips like a purr, calm, reverent, expectant, and upon hearing his quiet thanks a mischievous glint shone in her eyes and with absolutely zero warning she quickly took his entire shaft into her mouth until it hit the back of her throat. He understood then she’d been collecting saliva at the front of her mouth to make the quick movement more enjoyable.

Involuntarily, he leaned forward almost falling on top of her as he uttered a huffed laugh before offering a pleased groan, “Fucking- holy- damn it, Shepard.” He managed to say before his mouth involuntarily hung open in a pant and he stood back up, staring down at her with a new depth in his gaze. Lost within his own mind, watching her, and enraptured by the experience as a whole he slid both hands into her wet hair as Shepard offered him a grin, pleased with his responses.

Running her tongue back and forth against the underside of his cock, she slowly pulled away from him until she reached the tip. He closed his eyes holding on to her to stay steady as she slightly curled her tongue and rotated it firmly around the head. A pleasant sound emanated from his throat as she slid her hand over the saliva covered shaft and once again slid more of it back into her mouth. His lower back muscles contracted in a spasm, sending his hips forward slightly and connecting the tip of his cock with the back of her throat. In response, she shifted her seated position slightly and pressed forward causing more of him to slide further into her throat. He offered an open mouthed breathy-groan, staring down at her with wide eyes before closing them forcefully as his eyes rolled backwards in pleasure. His eyelids fluttered momentarily as she repeated the action, cock sliding in and out of her throat multiple times before her throat constricted and she pulled back, gagging.

Momentarily concerned, he went to pull away from her, but she wrapped both hands around his ass holding him in place before repeating the motion twice more. His stomach tightened and he tipped forward slightly, placing more of his weight on her shoulder as less and less blood made it to his brain thanks to his breathing as it alternated between quick huffs, and long moaning exhales.

“Shepard.” He whispered quietly, trying to push her away so he could _try_ and return the favor somehow. God damn it was so good.

The gagging response earlier caused a much thicker saliva substance to coat the inside of her mouth and consequently, his shaft. As she pulled back with his prompting, she pinched the thick string of saliva off of her tongue before wiping the moisture off of her chin with her other hand. He sighed, and shook his head at her in admiration as she reached up with both hands and once again his stomach contracted slightly as a shiver ran through his entire body, a huff forcefully escaping his nose, “Shepard!” He stated a bit more emphatically.

She grinned up at him with the most villainous expression he’d ever seen on her face. He laughed and groaned, trying to pull away from her, but she quickly reached up, her saliva covered hands still managing to find purchase on his back, pulling him forward on top of her. Reaching out, fingers stiffly sinking into the mattress, he held himself above her as she wrapped her legs around his torso and pulled his lower body forward causing the head of his cock to come in contact with her.

She was currently holding him, pretty solidly, in a closed-guard position. Growling somewhat forcefully now, he slid one hand under her back and moved them both further onto the bed. He hadn’t had much ability to counter her grip from where he’d previously been partially standing, mostly falling over. While this wasn’t martial arts, he grinned, planting one knee against the center of her ass, stretching the other leg out behind him before leaning back and breaking her hold on his torso. He heard a pleased purr emit from her throat as he then slid off the bed, kneeling on the floor, hooking both hands around her legs to slide her closer to him, and her purr instantly melted into a groan as he pressed his tongue against her.

In response to the taste that coated his tongue, he silently thanked his past self for taking a Reversal tablet before Shepard arrived… just in case. Supporting her ass slightly to keep it level as it partially hung off the side of the bed, he slyly stuck the tip of his tongue just barely into her and she moaned again, tilting her head back and to the side, biting down on her pointer finger. He wasn’t particularly fond of the taste if he had to be honest, but it wasn’t difficult to ignore for the sake of her obvious enjoyment. While he definitely wasn’t accustomed to doing this with human physiology, he’d learned enough from articles, pictures, and unrealistically over-dramatic videos, the portions he would do well to stay away from, and what to pay attention to; however, she was undeniably going to be more complicated than he’d ever initially anticipated.

Turian females didn’t require nearly as much time or astute attention to detail as human females seemed to. Regardless, he kept himself focused on what he knew he already had skills doing, and figured she’d comment along the way if there was something wrong… but perhaps he should ask.

“Shepard?” He asked quietly as she took a calming breath and answered with a simple, “Mm?”

“I’ll do my best to be careful, but let me know if-” He started, not quite sure how he wanted to finish his sentence as he gently pushed her further onto the bed, rose from his knees to crawl over her, and gazed down at her with a loving expression.

With a broad smile, she reached up to take hold of his face as he supported himself above her, but he narrowed his eyes in a grin, shaking his head in denial. Calmly, he dipped his mouth to her breast again and teased her by bumping the tip of his cock once more against her opening, this time on purpose. He felt her breath cascade around his face as he glanced up at her, tongue still circling around her tit. She smiled broadly and laughed light-heartedly as he switched to her other breast, gently manipulating and running a thumb over the tip of the one he’d just been working on with his free hand, “What?” He asked mid-transition.

“You are so god-damn _attractive_. _Fucking hell_.” She said absolutely enthralled.

His jaw flexed in a pleased grin and as he slightly increased pressure on her breast with his tongue while attempting to scoot forward a bit more on the bed, and once again he bumped against her, causing him to offer a surprised huff as his hips involuntarily moved forward even further, pressing more fervently toward her.

She groaned and reached up with one hand to grasp his bicep, “Do we have to wait until right before our suicide mission?” She asked looking at him with such an intense longing. Her question made his resolve falter and he pulled his mouth away from her momentarily, gazing at her from under his brow in his hunched over position. Neither of them wanted to wait, that much was obvious.

“We don’t _have_ to.” He emphasized by lowering his head toward her again licking and lightly nibbling on her neck.

Rolling her eyes slightly she conjectured, “You just wanted to postpone because you were nervous. It had nothing to do with the solidarity of the team.”

A derisive snort escaped his nose as he sat back on his heels, “Of course it had nothing to do with the _team_. I can’t believe you actually believed that.” He replied clearly amused.

Her face blushed and she looked up at him with puppy-dog eyes, “I thought it was a respectable reason, I didn’t-“ She started, realizing with considerable embarrassment how gullible she’d been.

Curling up next to her, he grinned, propping his head up with one hand, and occupying the other with her breast as she laid on her back gazing up at him, “Well, I suppose it was _part_ of the reason. Since I re-joined the Normandy Tali and Kasumi, _and just about everyone else_ have been hounding me to ask you out.”

She offered a small chuckle, “I thought it was just Kasumi?”

Rolling his head dramatically and offering a disbelieving laugh, he trailed his fingers lightly across her stomach and legs, “Not. Even. Close. Dr. Chakwas, Tali, Samara, Joker, Zaeed, even _Grunt_.” He finished amused, looking from her stomach to meet her gaze again.

“The whole ship, hm? Were we really _that_ obvious with our interests?” She asked grinning up at him.

He snorted a laugh, returning his gaze fondly to her torso, “I guess so.” He replied, running his fingers gently over her clit for a moment. 

Turning her back to face him, Shepard situated his dick between her ass and gently began moving her torso, grinding against him while laying down. Almost immediately he winced and placed his free hand solidly on her butt and pulled away from her.

Rotating her upper body until her shoulder blades laid almost flat against the mattress, she gazed back at him, “What’s wrong?” She asked concerned.

“My torso isn’t _quite_ as soft as yours, Shepard.” He said calmly.

“Oh! My god, I’m so sorry.” She said flipping over to face him, laying her hand over his dick, “I completely forgot.”

Pointedly, he returned his gaze to her hand, now slowly stroking him and he grinned at her fondly. Repositioning, he scooted toward the head of the bed, leaning back ever so slightly against the headboard. He watched with admiration as Shepard crawled toward him, pressing her breasts against his chest, and dipping her head to his neck, nibbling and licking under his jaw, “You know, there’s this old human adage,” She started, “‘kiss it 'n make it better’.”

He chuckled, and as she was within reach, he wrapped his hands around her ass, appreciating its dimensions as she continued to kiss his neck and face. Pulling away from him slightly, Shepard dipped her head once again, running her nose and soft cheek over his shaft and tip. Finding himself devoid of a good reply to her comment, he remained silent watching as his dick involuntarily bobbed and weaved in response to her soft-flirtations. Purposefully maintaining eye contact with him, Shepard quickly wet her lips as she wrapped one hand around the base and lovingly ran the tip of her tongue just under the head.

Breath rate once again quickening, he offered an unintentional growl as she repeated her previous action of quickly taking his full length into her mouth, letting it hit solidly against the back of her throat, “ _Fuck_ -“ He hissed, his upper body contracting forward as one hand tensely wrapped around the back of her head, the other grasping at the sheets. She offered a chuckle as she slowly pulled back. With the break they’d taken, the difference in sensitivity was acutely obvious as her tongue artfully wound its way under and around his dick. Pressing forward, more slowly this time, she once again gagged against him and his torso seized, causing him to exhale forcefully, “ _Fucking hell, Shepard_ …” He whispered as she slowly pulled off of him forming a suction within her mouth as she did so.

After gently licking around the tip for good measure, she prompted, “Good?”

He offered a breathy laugh of disbelief, “Must be one of the _dumbest_ questions you’ve ever asked.” He panted, gazing down at her with an expression that was still lost in the sensation as she continued, moving her hand a bit faster and promptly returning her mouth to the tip, pushing the thick saliva from the back of her throat to the tip of her tongue. 

 

 

_How the hell does she... it's her **mouth**. Spirits- **fuuuck...**_

 

 

His fast breathing quickly turned to repetitive short exhales that sounded like little laughs before he’d take a deeper breath and moan.

Following several consecutive huffed breaths he fumbled helplessly to reach her shoulder, digging his nails slightly into her skin, and managed to say, “Sh- epard… Stop…” When she didn’t pull away, he groaned forcefully and feebly attempted to push her off.

Playfully, she responded, “Why?” before fitting her lips around him again and licking around the tip.

He swallowed attempting to slow his breathing, “You’re _too_ good. I’m-” He huffed.

Apparently finding this to be a very stupid reason for stopping, she cut off his sentence by increasing the rate at which her hand was moving, changing her grip slightly, and he leaned back against the pillows, tilting his head back and offering a hopeless laugh, “... ** _Shepard..._** ” He attempted to warn.

He was already shaking, leg muscles contracting in spasms at her actions. His torso contracted and he stared down at her panting open mouthed, amazed to see her look so contented. Eyes closed at the moment, expression pleasantly focused, and clearly enjoying herself. She pulled her mouth off of him for a moment to grin coyly before, in an instant, she rose and kissed his cheek, her lips leaving a wet smudge on his face before returning to her self-appointed task. Unable to suppress many emotions at the moment, he laughed aloud, wiping the wet sensation off his face with a forearm as she grinned and increased her movements to a stomach churning pace. Breath exited his lungs in one short-huffed exhale. One hand gripped the headboard as the other dug into the sheets, his vision enthralled by watching her move. His breath began to hitch, forcing more powerful exhales as her eyes met his with an all knowing expression. Ever so slightly, she increased the movement of her of her mouth over him and that was it…

Every muscle in his body contracted repeatedly and he huffed laughing moans as he gazed down at her. She was still sucking lightly on him, drawing out every bit of fluid she could and swallowing, in complete disregard for Mordin’s advice. Shoving helplessly at her shoulder he tried to push her away, but she continued licking and sucking on him ever-so-lightly. Her movements slowed and the length of her tongue stroked gently against the underside of his tip eliciting more breathy huffs and a few groans as he leaned his head back again, whispering swears under his breath.

When she finally pulled away, he swallowed forcefully and sighed heavily, offering a pleasant groan. Grinning, proud of his reaction, Shepard picked up a corner of the sheet and wiped the saliva from her mouth before reaching over to grab the water bottle resting on the bedside table and took a long sip, lightly swishing the water in her mouth before swallowing.

Clicking the cap back down, she crawled on top of him, pressing her clit against his shaft, “Hi there.” She teased.

He swallowed again, gazing at her with an exhausted expression. Reaching up to hold her face in one hand, he shook his head, “ _Too_ _good_ , Shepard.”

Sliding off of his lap and laying her head on his thigh she asked with a smug grin, “Why _too_ good?” 

Closing his eyes briefly, he offered a sigh before commenting, voice deeper than usual from the aftermath of his exertion, “I didn’t get to touch you nearly long enough for _you_ to finish.”

Grinning she shrugged with one shoulder, “I don’t care.” She said with a chuckle. 

His brow furrowed before he opened his eyes and tipped his chin closer to his chest to look at her more pointedly, “You _don’t care_ …” He stated confused. 

Puzzled, she looked up at him, “No, why should I? I've enjoyed every bit of our evening.”

He huffed a laugh, “What do you mean _‘why should I’?_ That’s the whole point for most people isn’t it? Finishing...”

She sat up, leaning away from him a bit, “Garrus, I want you to understand something about me, and I want you to understand it here and now  _so well_ , that you never worry about it again.”

Narrowing his eyes slightly, attempting to figure out what she was going to say, he nodded, listening intently.

“Sex, for me, isn't about the orgasm. It never has been and likely never will be, regardless of how many people try to convince me it _should_ be.” She started looking at him with a serious but calm and reflective expression, “Is it _nice_? Sure, but does it happen every time? _Absolutely not_."

Motioning toward him with an open hand she continued, "I’m sure you’ve had, or will have, sex at some point in which you just _don’t_ finish, for _whatever_ reason and that’s okay.” Shrugging casually she grinned at him with a more amused expression, “I’ve been wanting to do _this_ with you for months," She started gesturing toward the room vaguely, "because it’s vulnerable, it’s bonding, it’s the culmination of all these-” Her hands tensed to make her fingers look like claws as she brought them up next to her head, “ _intense_ emotions I kept trying to ignore about how much I care for you.”

She offered a small laugh, dropping her hands to the mattress again, “Sex, or sexual _activities_ in general are _never_ going to be about the climax for me. Whether you're licking my tits, fingering me, or ploughing me from behind... It’s more about **_us_**.” She rolled her head to the side and commented with a flippant hand gesture, "I know that sounds like some idealistic comment that could only happen in theory, but-" Pausing momentarily, she scooted closer to him and tilted her head with a flirtatious expression, “I mean, if I finish, that’s great in its own right, but if I get to spend my whole evening on my knees with _**you** in my mouth_, listening to you _swear_ and _moan_ , and feeling your hand in my hair, encouraging my actions… that’s _incredibly_ rewarding for me. I _love_ that.”

He stared at her for a moment letting her words linger in the silence as his face heated considerably. His mind more alert than it had been previously, he swallowed and offered her a small grin before quoting her own words back at her from earlier in the evening, “Good god, Shepard... I might just fall hopelessly in love with you if you keep this up.”

A smile spread over her entire visage as she scooted up to him, sat upright on her knees, and held his face in her hands kissing him fervently. Reaching up, he ran his hands slowly from her shoulder blades to her ass and back up again, before wrapping his arms tightly around her, leaning forward, and causing her to fall backwards. Holding himself over her, he pressed his tongue against her mouth as she reciprocated, this time _he_ managed to lightly bite her tongue and she offered a small sigh as he let it slide back.

Several things he wanted to say all pressed against the back of his skull, fighting to make it out of his mouth, but for whatever reason he couldn’t say them just yet. Maybe it was that fear of screwing up that kept him silent. His constant fear of failure... of her potentially _disappearing_ all over again. Instead of saying exactly what his brain wanted, he commented, “I cannot tell you how glad I am that you _offered_ the opportunity to-“

She cut him off with a palm strike to the shoulder, “Do _not_ finish that sentence.” Her expression fixed in a bright eyed grin.

“It _was_ adorable though.” He said smirking down at her, “You said this, _honestly_ , well worded, and fairly arousing challenge, and then all I had to do was ask “Really now?” and you just _crumbled_.” The amusement in his tone very obvious and she shook her head rolling her eyes.

“Well, thanks for accepting.” She calmly reciprocated before attempting to stifle a yawn.

A corny reply escaped his mouth before he could stop it, “My pleasure. Literally and figuratively.”

Offering a dramatic 'ugh' sound, she grinned playfully and shoved him away from her. Chuckling, he grabbed the sheet and quickly pulled it with him as he scooted to the head of the bed to lay down, completely covering her as she lay diagonally on the mattress.

"Garrus!" She called out from under the sheet, raising her hands, trying to scramble out from beneath it as he chortled at her.

While she figured out which way was up, he reached over to the bedside table next to him and grabbed the small remote, turning the lights in the fish tank down several notches, deactivated the lights within the model ship display, and powered down the hologram on the exterior of Shepard’s closet. 

Finally settling in next to him, having successfully escaped the sheet, Shepard sighed comfortably and scooted closer to him as he placed the remote back on the table. Turning back around to face her, he carefully readjusted the pillows he'd grabbed. Her bright eyes gazed up at him from within the darkness and he grinned down at her, before leaning over and pressing his mouth gently against her temple. Happily, she reached up to place a hand on his neck in thanks before he rolled onto his back. Closing his eyes, he listened as Shepard shifted her position and rested her arm over him to cuddle. Placing a hand on her arm in solidarity, he hummed pleasantly before yawning and turning his head slightly to the side, resting his chin on the top of her head. 

A few moments later, when they were both comfortable, Garrus whispered, "Shepard?" 

"Hm?" She calmly offered. 

Grinning, amused with himself he commented, "I'm fairly certain you only finished putting lotion on  _one_ leg..."

He felt her body shake as she laughed and she shook her head, "Thanks for the reminder." With a smile on her lips, she kissed his chest lightly before laying back down, happily drifting off to sleep.

 


	30. 30. November, Tali, Joker, Garrus, Shepard

 

[2185, Sol System month of “November”; Unmarked Cerberus Facility]

 

 

Miranda appeared in the hallway, stepping in sync with Shepard as she gazed down at her tablet, “Installation and initial testing have been completed on the new multicore shielding, ablative armor, javelin disruptor torpedoes, and Thanix cannon. The Normandy’s GUARDIAN lasers, antiproton thrusters, fusion plant, Tantalus drive core were also double checked upon docking to port; however we’ll need to remain in port for another day.”

Halting her steps, Shepard turned to stare at the woman beside her, “Why? We need to get that Reaper IFF.”

Nodding, Miranda sighed, “I agree whole heartedly, Commander; however, protocol requires communication between EDI and the new systems work properly without running the risk of overheating the drive core.”

“I thought you just said they checked the drive core.” Shepard asked resuming her clipped pace down the completely white hallway.

Miranda collapsed her tablet, holding on to it loosely, “Upon docking, yes, but now that everything has been installed it will take another day or so to ensure the new installations are cooperating. That reaper isn’t going anywhere, and The Illusive Man wants to make sure everything else is in working order before making EDI install the IFF itself while mid-flight.”

As they rounded a corner, Shepard asked, raising an eyebrow, “Does _flying_ alter her ability to install a new program?”

Shaking her head, she gestured forward with one hand, “No, but the IFF is _reaper_ technology, Shepard. The Illusive Man, and _Cerberus_ in general, wants to ensure EDI has all the resources and heat reserves it needs during the installation process.”

Nodding, Shepard braced her forearm in front of her as she simultaneously hit and pressed the handle on the door between her and the aerobridge to the Normandy, boosting it open quickly with the impact, “Fine, but I want to talk with EDI. So, I’m going back on that ship.”

Miranda was clearly attempting to subdue the sigh that pressed against her lungs, “Of course, Shepard, but Joker will need to stay aboard this station while you speak with EDI.”

A smirk curled one corner of Shepard’s mouth, “Afraid we’ll run away with the ship?”

Raising both eyebrows in a judgmental expression, Miranda commented, “Joker is recognized as a cooperating, if not the _sole_ , larcenist of the Normandy… **_twice_** _._ ”

Snorting a laugh, Shepard grinned sidelong at Miranda, “Don’t you love how a cripple manages to steal the fastest ship in the galaxy _twice_?” She commented as the door to the Normandy slid open within the airlock bridge and Miranda halted her path, refusing to board.

Shepard disappeared into the crowd of Cerberus personnel maintaining the ship as Miranda stared after her, “Yeah…” she sighed perturbed, “ _Love_ it.”

It was lunch time, and Shepard expected all of her crew would be on the station enjoying non-ship food for once. Amidst her crowd weaving, Shepard tapped one of them on the shoulder but they held up a finger indicating for her to wait as they were holding on to several wires, making sure they were connected to the right places. When she finally looked up, she noticed who had tapped her and her back instantly straightened as she saluted, “My apologies, Commander.”

Shrugging Shepard dismissed her apology and asked, “Why are there _so many people_ on here? We’ve been here all day, I figured everyone would be gone by now.”

“No ma’am, we have staff working around the clock while you’re here to make sure you get out of here by tomorrow. A check up like this would normally last a week. All of us are checking different systems, running different programs, etcetera. Our program director is in Engineering if you have more questions.” She said before smiling warily, clearly wanting to return to her work.

Nodding respectfully, Shepard thanked the woman, but ignored the elevator for a moment, walking through where Jacob usually worked into the comm room. After unlocking the door, she stepped in to find Garrus, Tali, and _Joker_ standing within. Tali’s arms were crossed, Garrus sat on the floor, and Joker leaned against the railing, all three of them completely silent as Shepard entered and locked the door behind her.

“How did you get onto the ship?” She immediately asked, pointing at Joker.

He grinned, “Told the Cerberus guard at the door I was employed by Cerberus and he just let me walk on in.”

Shepard then looked at Garrus and Tali, “We explained our areas of expertise saying we could help with the installations and they welcomed us onboard, then promptly ignored everything we said.” Tali explained with a clearly perturbed tone. 

Taking a deep breath, Tali then asked, motioning toward Shepard, “What brings you back to the ship?”

Shaking her head she sighed, “I can’t stand being in that station listening to Jack complain for another minute. She finally locked herself in one of the bathrooms I think… Hey…” She started, motioning toward the three of them, “On the plus side, all of us are going to have really nice meals and awesome beds to sleep in tonight.”

Joker offered a derisive chuff, “You think any Cerberus bed can one-up my chair?”

“Cerberus _made_ your chair, Joker.” Shepard reminded him.

“Yeah well… I bet they cheap out on the beds.” He retorted.

All four of them fell silent for a moment before Shepard asked, “Hey, EDI… How’s it going?”

“I believe The Illusive Man is… _over-protective_. I have only had a few hitches in run-time, and they were when each upgrade was installed.”

“Nicely done, EDI. You’re a trooper.” Shepard said proudly.

EDI’s reserved voice commented back with a pleased, “Thank you, Shepard.”

Offering a sigh, Shepard lifted her hand toward the three in the room, “Join me at the bar? They mentioned free drinks for all Normandy crew.”

Unenthusiastically all four friends walked back out of the Normandy, and slowly made their way to the dimly lit bar.

“I expected this place to be white-walled and completely tasteless.” Garrus commented as he gazed around the rich red-carpeted room with heavy curtains over huge windows, “I didn’t even know curtains were still a _thing_. How old is this facility?” He asked to no one in particular.

The very bored bar tender commented, “It’s less the age of this place, and more that the owner has a decade conflict.”

“A decade conflict?” Tali questioned skeptically.

Waving a hand as he leaned on his elbows, the bar tender commented, “Yeah, like he was born in 2110 and believes his soul is trapped in _1864_ in Earth years…”

All four winced at him and he nodded responding with a roll of his eyes, “Yeah… I know… Anyway, you guys want anything to drink? Feel free to sit anywhere.”

“I’ll do a heavier Tavum in warm water, and a spoon full of honey too please.” Shepard said with a sigh.

The other three ordered whatever sounded even remotely palatable and they all walked across the large room to sit by the windows and fireplace.  

Shepard sank down onto a plush, but supportive, couch cushion, crossing one leg over the other in a 4 position, “What do you think the others are up to?” She asked as Garrus sank down next to her, resting one forearm on the couch arm and the other behind her, Joker and Tali took their seats across from them in separate rocking chairs.

Tali pulled up her omni tool and calmly began relaying what everyone else was doing as if scrolling through a list, “Grunt, Jack, and Thane apparently found a massive pool on one of the lower decks and it appears Thane is mostly supervising the other two. Samara has found an empty concert hall and is now playing the piano while Zaeed records her playing. No one knows what Kasumi’s doing… Miranda and Jacob are currently in a meeting with the Illusive Man, Dr. Chakwas and Mordin are… apparently just walking around the hallways talking?” She asked aloud before nodding slightly sideways to confirm her statement.

Curious, Shepard tilted her head as she slid a bit more comfortably against Garrus’s side, “How did you know all that?” she asked holding the warm glass she’d ordered in both hands.

Sighing, Tali put her arm back down and shook her head, “Miranda asked all of us to give updates every few hours where we are and what we’re doing, so if something happens she we can all return to the ship or convene for a meeting as quickly as possible.”

Amused, Joker commented, “I’m assuming Kasumi elected to ignore that request… Man.” He said shaking his head, “Seriously, how did she get her hands on that cloaking tech? It’s _way_ better than yours, Shepard. You can only keep it on for a few seconds. Hers can last like half an hour if she wanted.”

“I know…” Shepard said shaking her head, wondering the same thing.

“Jealous… personally.” Garrus commented before the rest nodded emphatically in agreement.

All four fell into a somewhat comfortable mutual silence, before Shepard took a deep calming breath and rekindled conversation, “Joker,” Shepard started slowly, “Do you have any family?”

His eyes lit up and he grinned at her, leaning back in his chair slightly, “Sure my old man’s still kicking and my younger sister’s going into high school next year.” He offered an amused grin, “She’s so excited that she turns fifteen on the first day of her freshman year.”

Tali tilted her head and leaned on the arm of her rocking chair, “Do you talk to them much?”

“Yeah, actually.” He said as a smile spread over his face, “Talk to my sister as often as I can. She thought it was the coolest thing in the world when I visited home right after I got the job as the Normandy’s pilot, and Hannah _flipped her shit_ when I told her how I auditioned.”

All three of them chuckled and Garrus tilted his head slightly, “I never heard the story of how you became the Normandy’s pilot.”

Shepard took a sip of her drink, grinning amused as she nodded at Joker with a smirk curling one corner of her mouth.

“Well…” He started taking a heavy swig of his drink before leaning forward and setting it on the table, “I’m sure it won’t surprise you that I applied and was turned down because of Vrolik Syndrome… So, it was the Normandy’s first test flight and I was transporting some turian general to Arcturus Station to see it. This dude stood behind my chair the entire time, breathing down my neck, so I try to just make casual conversation with him by telling him I’m clearly the most qualified to be the Normandy’s pilot. Probably won’t surprise you to hear this jackass _immediately_ tells me the same thing the recruiters did.” He wrinkled his nose and shook his head, “There was no chance of a _cripple_ having control of such a _sophisticated_ starship as the _Normandy._ ” Joker rolled his eyes and continued, “I mean… it’s always the limp that catches their eye, you know? Somehow, fragile bones makes my obvious passion and _skill_ for flying, not to forget, my _unmatched marks_ in flight school suddenly irrelevant.” Shaking his head he made a little ‘pff’ sound before continuing, “When we got to the station, I managed to lock the hired pilot in a shuttle and slipped aboard the Normandy. Took off with her, locked myself in the cockpit without a co-pilot, sealed the door with kinetic barriers, and completed the entire test course… _while being shot at_ , may I add.”

Tali loosely held her drink at the rim with one hand and asked with a concerned tone, “They actually _shot_ at the _Normandy_?”

He chuckled, “Yeah… guess they were a little _freaked_ out or something when I take off with their new stealth ship. When they actually opened up comms… can you believe it, they actually tried _talking_ me into returning her.”

Garrus snorted a laugh and Joker nodded, leaning forward with a laughing grin and motioning toward him emphatically, “ _Exactly_. I guess they thought their only option was to try and target the engines. I completed the whole test course.” He paused chuckling to himself before he sat up straighter and saluted no one in particular to emphasize his next statement, “Brought her back completely unharmed and I proudly stood to salute the captain that stomped on board to arrest me.” He dropped his salute and leaned forward to grab his drink again, smiling amused at the memory before he continued, “Captain Dillard, I think his name was… yelling a whole bunch of angry shit, dragging me from the ship to stop straight in front of Anderson and the turian general. You know, I expected everyone to be absolutely furious, but only Dillard was foaming at the mouth. Anderson just calmly asked me why I’d taken the Normandy and the good general actually… I’m pretty sure he was smiling?”

He took a sip of his drink before leaning back a bit more in his chair, “Get this… This _turian general_ **stops** Dillard from arresting me, and says he actually wants me to be the Normandy’s official pilot.”

A huff of a laugh escaped Garrus’s nose and he nodded slowly multiple times, “That sounds about right. Waited until you proved yourself, then I’m guessing, he enforced that if you weren’t hired, it would harm inter-species relations?”

“Yeah!” Joker confirmed, furrowing his brow, “What is there a section in the turian _Military Service for Dummies_ book titled “Getting What You Want by Implying Militaristic Retaliation”?”

He tilted his head to the side and shrugged with one shoulder, “May as well be. It’s like an unspoken but universally accepted tactic.”

All four fell silent, and Shepard lost her gaze in the fireplace before speaking quietly, “How do you think the _validity_ of an _unspoken rule_ actually works?” Cutting anyone off from answering immediately, she continued waiving a hand slightly, “It’s like magic. Someone says something with the _illusion_ of following through and everyone just… believes it.”

Tali sighed, leaning back against the far corner of her rocking chair, crossing one leg over the other, “Isn’t that how everything starts though? Everything is true until it isn’t.”

Joker groaned, “Shepard, whyyy?”

With an amused air, Tali waived for him to raise his glass to his mouth, “Just keep drinking, Joker. Who knows, you might enjoy the conversation… although, you know who I would love to see in this conversation?”

Shepard tilted her head as she resituated, stretching her legs out along the sofa cushions, leaning back against Garrus’s side, and Tali obliged to answer without the spoken question, “Wrex.”

Garrus offered a scoffing laugh, “ _Wrex_ … You think _Wrex_ would want to be in on this? It’s too pretty and quiet in here.”

Shepard reached back to tap Garrus’s knee, “Are you telling me you don’t think cranky centuries old Wrex would love to kick back with a tub of Ryncol and discuss existentialistic topics with his old inter-species pals?”

Offering a reserved shrug, Garrus unscrewed the cap from his narrow-bottled drink and poured some into his mouth before offering a contented sigh and commenting, “Never know I guess… you know what _I_ want to see? Wrex and Zaeed arguing about something. I don’t care what, just _something_. I have a hunch it would be deeper than any of us might expect.”

Raising her shoulders in a smiling gesture Tali commented in a happy tone, “Can you imagine? Both of the ship’s angry, gruff, war-torn dads just hashing it out in a heated but strangely civilized conversation about… I don’t know, which planet has the best coffee beans.”

“Have you ever _had_ coffee?” Joker asked tilting his head at her.

Tali nodded to either side, “Cold, sure. I don’t think I’d enjoy trying to drink hot coffee.”

Garrus gestured with one hand toward her, “Does the flotilla grow its own coffee beans?”

She nodded, “We’ve been cultivating plants from our home world and others we’ve purchased from other planets for a long time. You know, if more people ever actually tried to get to know us, they might be surprised by all the experiences and knowledge we have.”

Shepard turned her gaze from the fire to Tali once again, “Hey, what’s up with the whole suit rat insult? I have never met a Quarian who wasn’t very polite, reserved, determined, and working pretty hard for every credit they earn, even under very oppressive circumstances.”

Tali sighed, “Well, granted Shepard, you haven’t met very many of us. I can’t deny there are a lot of young quarians out on pilgrimage who will take any advantage they can. It’s unfortunate that the ones who extort others are usually the only ones people ever pay attention to. Those of us working hard and staying out of other people’s ways tend to be completely overlooked. One of the most disheartening feelings, honestly, is when you’ve finally earned the trust of a group of people and then over and over and _over_ you’re constantly cast aside for promotions.”

Shepard sat up once again, facing Tali more directly, “What do you think are the reasons for that?”

Tilting her head back slightly, Tali thought about it for a moment before answering, “I’ve contemplated this so many times. A part of me wants to say that it’s just plain _racism_ , but I can’t honestly say that’s the only reason for it. On one hand, I think some ship captains may think there’s no point in promoting us if we’re going to leave them in a few years and return to the flotilla-“

Garrus interjected with a scoff, “That shouldn’t _matter_ … pretty much every position out there now is required to be equal opportunity employment unless you don’t qualify skills-wise or if a physical or mental disability may genuinely impact your work performance.”

Joker raised an eyebrow at him and commented, “Do you have the page reference for that quote?”

Tali shrugged and ignored Joker’s snarky interjection to the conversation, “That’s really nice in theory, Garrus. I guess when you’re a ship captain in space… you know, there’s always a bottleneck to the lower ranks. Everyone enforcing conduct on the little guy, and _nowhere near_ as many making sure the step up is taking care of the lackeys.” She took a small sip of her drink, staring down at it for a moment, “You know when I was little I used to believe there was a way we could change everyone’s minds. It always seemed like there was a tier system. At the top influential level were the Asari. The scientist Salarians you could somewhat ignore but everyone knew how valuable they were, the turians were always sticking their noses in everyone else’s business with military stuff… No offense.” She said looking up at Garrus.

He shrugged before pouring the last bit of his drink into his mouth, swallowing and chuckling, “None taken. Accurate.”

Tali held her drink glass in both hands as she continued, gesturing lightly toward the commander, “Then the humans were like the bright-eyed kids of the galaxy that everyone wanted to nurture. Everyone else just kind of… forcefully got pushed to the side. Of course, our whole problem with the geth didn’t help our case. You know,” She started taking a small sip of her drink before continuing, “I was actually part of an equal rights group when I first left on my pilgrimage. We organized little information booths to offer historical education on our respective races. We thought we could change the world by trying to educate it with factual history.”

Joker finished his drink and set the glass on the table in front of him again, “I’m guessing that went _super well_.”

Tali nodded her head back and forth, “We obviously weren’t the only group. I’m sure there are several thousand that are doing the same thing, I mean you’ve seen the statue honoring the Krogan on the citadel for _their_ military service. There are pockets of hope all over the galaxy, but sometimes our little groups pursued reaching out to the most difficult places to try and make a difference. Success was pretty rare.” She offered a little shrug before sighing, “I suppose the group I was in became a little too disheartened. We never gave ourselves a break to enjoy the equal rights parades and such that the asari, turian, salarian, and human activist groups would start to try and wake their own races up to the oppression they subjected others to. My group… we all stuck our hands out into the crowds of hatred and waited for the one snake who didn’t bite.”

The rest of her companions remained silent as she spoke, watching her with contemplative expressions, “Thanks to my father’s role in the Flotilla, I eventually joined up with other Quarian task units, and pursued tactical operations, information gathering, investigation on reports of geth that had ventured past the Attican Traverse.” Pausing momentarily, she took one last sip of her drink and set it on the table, “It was on one of those recon missions I got the information on Saren from a geth. I lost my partner, Keenah'Breizh, on our run through the Citadel before you found me.” Tali said quietly.

Shepard sat upright and leaned forward, “Tali, I’m so sorry. I had no idea. Why didn’t you tell me? I would have tried to help you recover his body.”

Tali popped her knuckles nervously before continuing, “There was nothing left to recover. Saren’s men and several C-Sec agents chased us all across the Citadel, but one of the turian officers was able to figure out where we’d ducked through the crowd. Keenah had already been shot through the chest and he was bleeding out, but after a few seconds of exposure to open air, our blood takes on a translucent sheen. It can easily blend into a floor with people walking past. I’d be surprised if they could see it unless they knew what to look for.” She rocked the chair lightly with one foot, and clasped her hands tightly across her torso, “During the chase Keenah and I found ourselves taking shelter in an incinerator…”

She lifted a hand to her mask, “Nothing about this mission had been even remotely lenient.” Sighing forcefully, she continued, “Keenah died, and I needed to find a way out before Saren’s recruits made their way in and kept me from getting the information I had to the Council. From within I was able to jump up and access the cat-walk, and thankfully a small doorway for the keepers.” Tali shook her head and rested her elbows on either chair arm, “I was nervous to tell you all this at the time, Shepard because during the pursuit, a turian officer burst in and…” She closed her arms in her lap again, trying once more to pop her knuckles, this time without success, “I activated the incinerator and left him behind with Keenah’s body.”

No one said a word until she sighed softly and continued, “I murdered someone just an hour or two before you met me, Shepard. You trusted me right off the bat and I was so afraid to lose that trust again. I had _no one_ left. The flotilla wouldn’t let me return until I finished my pilgrimage, no one else except that sweet doctor on the Citadel had listened to anything I said… _Saren_ was after _me_.” Inhaling slowly she dipped her head before looking back up at the commander, “I’m sorry I never told you.”

Joker seemed to be the only one who had anything to say, but his comment didn’t add much to the conversation because all of them were thinking the same thing, “Damn, Tali.”

The bar tender walked up and tapped on the side of a two full bottles of vodka to draw their attention, “All of you seem like you could use these. Black bottle is dextro, clear is levo.” When all of them gazed at him appreciatively, he took the single black and two clear shot glasses he’d stacked upside down on top of the levo bottle and set them down on a trey before adding an additional larger black glass, pouring the appropriate vodka in the three shot glasses, he then poured a heavy serving of flavored syrup in the bottom of the larger glass before pouring vodka on top, and adding a little straw to it for Tali.

Leaving the vodka bottles and the flavored syrup on the table, he returned to his bar without another word.

Garrus stood from his seat to hand Tali her drink before sitting back down. Tali nodded politely to Garrus as she stirred the syrup into the vodka a bit more, offering a pleasant, “Thank you!” to the bar tender who clicked his tongue and gave her a thumbs up as he leaned on his bar already scrolling through social media on his omnitool.

Shepard tossed back a shot before leaning forward holding the rim of the shot glass loosely in one hand, "Tali... I'm so sorry for everything that's happened to you, and if I were you in that situation I would have stayed quiet too. I want you to know though, I've been very thankful and glad to have you aboard since I met you. You're an excellent addition to this crew."

Tali stared down at the glass in her hand before tilting her mask back up toward the commander, "Thank you, Shepard."


	31. 31. November, Tali, Joker, Garrus, Shepar

\--- 

 

All four companions had migrated to Shepard’s room to continue their conversations as the night droned on, but none of them were entirely clear on when or even how they had done so. Garrus leaned forward as he sat on the bed, motioning with his drink glass, now filled with something a bit less potent than the vodka they’d brought with them.

Just about every alcohol bottle that was already stocked in the luxury room had been opened and sampled, “I’ve got a story!” Garrus said raising his glass in the air, abruptly interjecting into the previous conversation with a drunken chuckle, “I was… _sixteen_. Already been through a year of military training, but… I was, Hah! Our division was… celebrating _something._ We did these _events_ every year. It was some kindofproject completion-so we all went out drinking.” He started, inhaling suddenly as a hiccup interrupted him, “First Officer Tarun, salarian, was so… _completely_ shit-faced he couldn’t process how to pay his tab. Just kept staring empty eyed at everyone. So,” Garrus chuckled involuntarily before continuing, “One of our other officers… ehhh _Kestas,_ turian… offered to help him out, help him pay his tab n’ such.” Leaning to his side, Garrus laid his glass on the table and exhaled forcefully before sitting up again, “Tarun… this guy just takes out a 20 and tries to slide it over to Kestas who is trying to tell Tarun there’s no way in hell 20’s gonna cover his tab.” Chuckles emerged from Garrus’s throat as he attempted to tell the story, “Tarun couldn’t process ‘ _nything_ so Kestas just says _fuck it_ and tries to figure out how much this guy owed-Anyway… Kestas goes to-finds out Tarun never _opened_ a damn tab. Everything was merged with several other people and no one knew who owed what.”

Swallowing forcefully, Garrus reached over to grab a glass of water and took a drink before continuing the story, “Kestas goes back to tell Tarun he doesn’t know what the fuck is going on, but-Now, we had an asari commander, Commander Shuri, and she was wearing a thin-strap shirt…”

Tali interrupted him slightly with a groan and a quiet amused, “oh, nooo…”

He nodded at her with a grin in his eyes and continued, “and she’d been drinking lightly, don’t think she was any more than a bit buzzed. Tarun though…” An obnoxious snorted laugh emitted from his nose before he continued, “Tarun just, uncertain of what to do with his 20, leans over ‘nd slides it under Commander Shuri’s bra strap-snaps it back down on top of the 20 before patting her shoulder lightly and turning around, _completely-_ ” he motioned sideways with a hand, “- _oblivious_.”

Joker cracked up laughing, “Pretty sure I did something similar to Shepard once.”

Shepard nodded, as she reclined with Tali on double wide lounger, “Yup. Back when we had the SSV. Except I’m pretty sure you handed it to me and I put it there on a dare to walk around like that all day and see if anyone asked questions.”

“That’s what that was?” Tali asked curiously tilting her head to the side to look at Shepard.

Nodding Shepard grinned, “I won the bed… _bet_. Not bed. Whoof…” Shepard stared down at her drink shaking the mild fog from her mind, “Ugh… We have important things to do tomorrow.”

Tali reached down and patted Shepard’s thigh, “We’re avoiding the rest of the crew and having a good time. We’ll all recover by tomorrow morning. Mordin and Dr. Chakwas have so many packets of those AfterEffect powders. Just mix it in your coffee…”

Shepard grinned and leaned over to lay her head on Tali’s shoulder, “She’s always so up-to-date.” Shepard said pointing back at Tali as she looked at the two men in her room.

Joker attempted to stifle a yawn as he said, “You’ve used those packets before, Shepard…”

“Mm… right.” Shepard said as her mouth opened in a massive yawn thanks to Joker’s mostly failed effort to stifle his own.

“What time is it?” Tali asked in response to all the yawning.

Garrus garbled out an answer as he rested his face in his hands, “0030… _ish_.”

Surprised, Tali looked around the room for a clock, unable to see it on the other side of the bed behind Garrus, “How did you know?” She asked.

Garrus tapped one finger on his visor as a reply before yawning himself.

“Why do you still have that on?” Tali asked amused.

Shepard grinned, “It maintains his devilishly good looks.”

Garrus pointed at Shepard with a finger gun and clicked his tongue before opening his eyes and glancing at the two women cuddling on the lounger out of the corner of his eye.

Tali chuckled, “I see.”

“Oh, hey… Commander, I just had an awesome thought.” Joker said sitting up a bit straighter from where he sat on the ground, “You only bring Kasumi, Tali, and Garrus out with you, so why don’t we leave everyone else here and just ‘pcckkckcrrrrrr’” He said moving his hand in a takeoff motion as his mouth made a guttural crackling noise to imitate the burn of the Normandy.

Shepard shook her head, “I just got everyone working together as a team recently with all the individual missions we’ve done. I don’t want to lose that before our trip through the Omega 4 relay.”

Everyone fell silent, staring absently at different spots in the room.

“I don’t _want_ to do it, Shepard.” Tali said honestly.

“The relay?” Shepard questioned in return, rolling her head to the side to look sidelong at her friend.

Nodding, Tali sighed, “I’ll do it but it’s scary. Scarier than Saren.”

Shepard took hold of Tali’s hand and patted it with her other hand, “We’ll be alright, Tali. I’m scared too, but it’s the waiting that’s the worst. Fighting, we know how to do. Plus, Joker’s the one who has to fly us through that shit show. We just get to hope we survive.”

Joker sighed, “Shepard… Let’s say I get us there, but we suffer so much damage we can’t make the trip back… What then?”

Leaning her head back and staring at the ceiling, Shepard said quietly, “We all gather on any part of the ship that’s still intact and we celebrate defeating the collectors.” Her breath shook slightly as she slowly exhaled, “And then we have two options. Find a way to move the ship fragments blocking the path of the Omega 4 relay so others can potentially rescue us and/or we accept death and pull the trigger.”

All four of them fell silent as fear and dread filled the room with a nearly unbearable chill.

“-but we’re going to make it.” Shepard began with conviction, “Remember, we aren’t _just_ relying on Joker. We have Joker and EDI as a team. We’ll have the IFF, we have the info from the Collector ship. With these upgrades,” Shepard started, waiving around the room to indicate the reason they were at this Cerberus facility in the first place, “I’m far less concerned about the ship surviving. The only thing I’m really letting myself think about is what we might face on the ground-mission. Even then, I can’t help but think we’ve got this.”

Despite Shepard’s morbid comments a few seconds ago, all three shipmates then looked at her then with a bit of a brighter expression of hope in their eyes.

Stifling a yawn, Shepard continued, “We have the most skilled tactical team I think the universe has ever seen. Our skillsets are excellently balanced. We are all very well trained. I genuinely think we have a good chance at making it through this.”

Tali took Shepard’s hand and squeezed it thankfully as Joker nodded at her and Garrus gave her a calm admiring expression through his visor.

Inhaling slowly, Shepard squeezed Tali’s hand lightly in return before sitting up and letting go, “We should all get some sleep. I don’t know how early we’re expecting to ship out.”

Tali walked over and offered Joker both of her hands to help him stand up and he grinned up at her and with a joking protest, he took her hands and they walked out together bidding their companions good night.

Locking the door behind them, Shepard rested her head against the door and sighed.

Garrus’s tired alcohol burned throat sounded deeper as he next spoke, “You alright?”

“Yeah.” She answered quickly, turning away from the door and walking back to him.

Bending at the waist and placing her hands on the mattress, Shepard leaned forward, tilting her head to look at him as he stared at her sideways with the left side of his face in his hand, “Hi there.” She said gently, “You okay?”

He offered her a calm grin and simply replied, “Yeah..." Uttering a singular chuckle, he commented, "You smell like wine.”

Shepard looked around the room in search of a wine bottle next to the lounger she and Tali had been resting in, “Mm… yeah, I guess that makes sense.”

Lifting his head off his hand, he leaned closer to her smell her breath, “And a _lot_ of other things. I never would’ave thought you tobe a _wine_ drinker, Shepard.”

“I’m not really.” She offered before chuckling, “Good lord... You are so...  _calmly_ drunk. You'd think someone gave you a light sedative.” She said pushing on his shoulder lightly and he groaned helplessly and fell with the momentum.

“Ugh… _Shepard_. I just got the room to _stop_ spinning.” He quietly grumbled as he lay crumpled on the mattress, “Why aren’t _you_ very drunk?” He questioned in return.

She grinned, conjecturing quietly, “I didn’t drink as much as you did?” Pausing momentarily she crawled slowly onto the mattress to refrain from jarring him too much, and lay down facing him, “You sure you’re doing alright? Never seen you drink _that_ much.”

He offered a despondent chuckle and said quietly, “Yeah, well, I don’t have to pay this time.” His voice was somewhat muffled as half of his jaw sank into the fluffy comforter.

Shepard reached out with her free hand and placed it on the side of his face and he purred, “Your hands are cold.”

Chuckling, she gently ran her hand over his face and he hummed pleasantly, “You sure you’re alright?” She asked watching him with a gentle expression.

He shrugged with one shoulder, “I got a little carried away... but, I don't know, I guess…” He sighed slowly before speaking again, “This _isn’t_ in _any_ way to _blame_ you, but I was going to say that I _officially_ have a reason to be so invested in caring about your well-being. I guess that realization has been stinging the back of my mind a bit more than I expected.”

Smiling complacently, Shepard continued to gently run the tips of her fingers over his face. His eyes closed and he exhaled slowly in a comfortable sigh as he unfolded his legs and draped himself sideways over the mattress.

Speaking gently, Shepard began, “I appreciate you being so worried, it genuinely is endearing, but please don’t be _so_ worried that it slowly destroys you. If anything that takes hold in your mind starts to paralyze you mentally or hold you so tightly you feel like you’re suffocating… find something that grounds you, and _hold onto it_ \- “

 

 

\--- ---

 

[Interview; Subject: Garrus Vakarian; late year 2189 CE, 3 years post Reaper Destruction.]

 

 

He huffed a laugh, “She told me, “Find something that grounds you, and _hold on to it_. If that happens to be _me_ , then I will always be happy to accept your embrace.”” He offered a sad smile and looked down, running his thumb over one of the lines on his palms as if the quote were etched into his skin.

I tilted my head slightly and asked slowly, “Is that why you’re so driven to work with me on this audio documentary?”

"In part." He conveyed honestly, sighing lightly as he looked up at me again.

Offering a small smile, I looked down at my notepad, “I wanted to inform you sir, this is the third week we’ve been meeting and the first four episodes have been edited and published.”

“How heavily were they edited?” He asked, fixing me in a steely gaze.

I shook my head, “I’ve been editing them myself, sir... with a little bit of help from a friend of mine. The only things I’ve edited have been some of my own commentary between your comments, such as describing your facial expressions and giving our listeners some insight on a scenario if you switched to an unrelated but still significant topic without realizing it. The only things we’ve taken out are substantial silences, or me saying goodbye and such.”

He observed me more compliantly then, “Where are they published?”

“Ah.” I started, pulling out an updated business card, “Here you go.”

I leaned across the coffee table and he took the card, staring down at it before lifting it in silent thanks.

A calm lull in conversation filled the room with a strangely bright feeling as if hope were radiating off of him before he spoke again, “I’m sure it won’t surprise you to hear me say that Shepard was the best friend I ever had. Even when we had disagreements, they weren’t really fights, which… I know, with as hot as our tempers could run, I’d expect disagreements to be explosive, but they weren’t. In almost every area Shepard gravitated toward negativity, I could balance it with positivity and she would do the same for me. I’ve never been fond of the phrase ‘completing one another’, and I still don’t think that’s statistically possible, to have another person be so perfect that they never end up leaving you with different holes in your soul, or find a few that they simply can’t fill… yet I feel like saying we were “pretty great” together almost doesn’t seem like enough.” He sighed before offering a small genuine chuckle, “I think _enhanced_ is a pretty good word. We teased one another pretty regularly about who was whose sidekick.” Nodding more emphatically he grinned, “Compounded, enhanced, vivified, etcetera.”

 

\--- ---

 

[2185, Sol System month of “November”; Unmarked Cerberus Facility]

 

 

Closing the door as quietly as possible behind her, Shepard glanced over her shoulder at the bed to see he hadn’t moved. With a gentle smile, she made her way to the coffee maker and winced as she unplugged it, tiptoeing toward the bathroom. Holding her breath, she set the coffee machine on the counter, resting the two AfterEffect powder packets next to the sink. She peered around for the door handle to the bathroom in the darkness, and despite using it twice last night in her still half-asleep and fairly buzzed state, she now realized there _was_ no handle. Squinting, confused, she examined the space next to the door frame with several unmarked buttons. Biting down on the front of her tongue in anticipation, she silently prayed it wasn’t the bathroom fan and pressed it. To her relief the door silently slid closed and locked with a faint ‘snick’ sound. Inhaling deeply to counteract her complete lack of breathing earlier. Shepard carefully slid her hand along the glass surface of the dimmable light control panel and turned around to examine the counter for a charging plate. Thankful to see a _universal_ one resting in the corner of the large counter, she carefully situated the coffee maker over the small black inset disc to make sure it would activate.

The lights on the front of the coffee maker lit up and immediately started asking questions.

 

LEVO?      DEXTRO?

TEA?      COFFEE?      ESPRESSO?      MOCHA?      MORE OPTIONS >          

SERVING SIZE:           1              2              4

 

Amused, Shepard pressed the subsequent options for levo, basic coffee, 1 serving and, careful not to fall in the sink, hopped up on the counter, sitting in a criss-cross position to watch it select the included coffee beans and begin its brew. Resting her elbows on her knees she listened as what she’d assumed to be a basic coffee maker began _percolating_ the coffee powder with water. The scent of coffee slowly permeated the air and although she wasn’t usually fond of _drinking_ coffee, she’d always loved the smell of it. Strangely enough, it reminded her of her mother and the memories attached were _generally_ decent ones, or at the very least they weren’t _bad_.

When it finished, she poured the contents of the pot into her double handled mug before tearing open the packet of AfterEffect and tapping the contents in, stirring it around until dissolved with a little metal spoon attached to the side of the coffee machine. After washing the pot out and pouring some water through the brewing chamber to rinse it out, she repeated the process for dextro coffee. The scent was noticeably different, but thankfully, it didn’t strike her as unpleasant. Confused at herself, Shepard found herself smiling as she set about making his AfterEffect coffee while sitting on the bathroom counter. There was something… oddly homey about it all despite the circumstances. A moment later, a blush rose to her cheeks realizing what she’d just considered. _Actually_ having a _home_ , **_with him_** … Maybe someday. If they came out _alive_ on the other side of this hell.

She nearly spilled the mug as a subtle knock resounded on the other side of the door and a groggy voice asked, “Shepard? Are you making coffee in the _bathroom_?”

After setting down the mug in her hands, she leaned back to press the button for the door. As it slid open she titled her head sideways to somewhat see behind her and offered a cheesy grin. He squinted forcefully, remaining blearily hunched over in response to the sudden bright light.

“Sorry!” She whispered courteously as she stretched her arm out behind her once more to generously dim the intensity of the lights, “and yes, I am making coffee in the bathroom… I didn’t want it to wake you up early.”

He inhaled slowly and opened his eyes a bit wider now that the harsh white wasn’t _completely_ blinding. Reaching out to put a hand on her arm, he offered a small grin, “Thanks for the thought, but I heard you come in the room.”

She offered an apologetic groan and he shook his head, “I was already awake. No worries.”

Nodding, she held the double handled mug out to him with a grin before realizing with a wince he probably wouldn’t be able to use it. Before she could get up to find him a new mug, he reached out to take it anyway.

Offering her an adoring grin, he said calmly, “I’ll find a different cup.” As he turned away, he once again reached out to lovingly place hand on her arm, “Good morning, by the way.”

She grinned up at him as he walked back out of the bathroom before grabbing her mug, slipping carefully off the counter, and following him out. While he reached up to take a cup he could use more easily from the glass shelving, she knelt down and rummaged through the miniature fridge to find little milk packets in one of the small door compartments.

Standing up again, she saw Garrus had already set out two honey packets he’d found in one of the drawers for her and she grinned up at him, “Thaaaank you.” She said with an upward lilt to her words as she tore them open carefully and squeezed the viscous substance into her coffee.

When the honey dissolved, Shepard knelt once more to rummage for some ice cubes in the miniature ice drawer at the very back of the hands-breadth freezer atop the fridge. Placing them carefully in her coffee, she once again stirred her concoction. Delicately sitting on the edge of the bed, she sipped cautiously from the rim of her double-handled coffee mug and smiled down at the milky liquid.

“Thought you didn’t like coffee.” Garrus commented quietly, walking over to sit carefully beside her.

A singular shrug rose and dropped in her shoulders causing the bed to shake beneath her. Staring down, wide eyed, at the mug filled with hot liquid in her hands, she wearily shifted her gaze from the coffee to him and offered a small smile, “I have absolutely no idea if the AfterEffect packets taste good in tea and I’d rather not spoil a good cup. Plus, Tali said she’s heard it’s pretty good in coffee so I thought I’d give it a shot.”

 

Silence stretched between them, before spreading out and blanketing the entire atmosphere of the room in a comfortable mind-numbing fog. Both of them stared out the window at the dark space beyond, letting their minds wander. Garrus glanced down at Shepard as her gaze fixated toward the window on their left. Careful not to spill his coffee, he gingerly scooted closer to her and gently rested his chin atop her head, pleased to hear her offer a small huff of a laugh. Sighing, almost in unison, they allowed the time in comfortable silence to stretch on just a bit further.

 

After another minute or two, Shepard finally broke the silence, “You know what will be nice?” She asked quietly, turning to face forward before looking over at him on her right.

A simple reply of, “Hm?” was all he need offer.

Contributing a small grin to the calm atmosphere, she continued, “Sitting in a living room one day, or on a porch or something, drinking a nice warm cup of tea and actually watching a sunrise instead of just billions of stars in the distance.”

Pondering her statement quietly, Garrus offered a small sigh before removing his chin from the top of her head and nodding in silent agreement.

Calmly adding to the conversation, he began, “It’s strange sometimes... We jump star systems on the daily, we’re _constantly_ busy, _everyone’s_ far from home… and yet, you look outside any of the windows around us and there’s not a shred of evidence to the naked eye that anything at all is happening out there.” Clearly waking up a bit more as his hangover-headache dissipated, thanks to the warm AfterEffect in his coffee, he paused momentarily before exhaling somewhat forcefully with a hint of a growl behind it, “All this shit with the collectors... which thanks to your conversation with Harbinger on that asteroid in the Viper Nebula, we now know is really _just_ the reapers… a smaller, mind-controlled, genetically altered, once Prothean, disgusting… _manifestation_ of the reapers.” Shaking his head before finishing the last of his coffee, he added, “I don’t know why, but I swear it boiled my blood when the Council and the rest of the Citadel began to conjure up these pointless lies about how Sovereign was merely a geth war ship. The _significance_ of everything was completely shoved aside.”

Sighing, Shepard shrugged conversationally rather than dismissively, “They’re scared… I get that... to an extent.”

Nodding his head sideways a few times in frustrated contemplation he gestured toward her with an open hand, “Sure, but this is something they can’t afford to ignore… and now it’s…” A frustrated grunt escaped his nose as he fell silent.

An unamused huff of a laugh escaped Shepard’s nose in agreement, “Isn’t this the way _every_ race has always been though? The economy on one planet, after hundreds of years of being somewhat stable, begins to fail and somehow _everyone_ except a few are completely blind to it… and those _few_ who do know? They’ve been trying to warn people for years, pressuring them to invest in subsidiaries, property, precious metals, _whatever,_  for _years_ before the effects are ever publicly seen. The same happens with wars across countries, clans, planets, etcetera. Everyone’s blind to how serious it really is until they _have_ to pay attention, and now, as far we know, even the _reapers_ are on some kind of _cycle_.”

Finishing her shallow mug of coffee and slipping off the bed to set it on the bedside table, Shepard noticed the headache that had been lightly stabbing at her skull had diminished greatly. Turning around, she looked down to see he’d also finished drinking his coffee, so she held out her hands to take the empty cup from him.

After setting it on the table next to her own, she stepped toward him and grinned, resting her forearms gently on his shoulders, “How’s the head?”

Closing his eyes and tilting his head back, he rolled it slowly in a circle. The vertebrae in his neck popped solidly with the rotation before he sighed and confirmed, “Much better. Those packets always work better than I think they're going to.” Offering an amused snort of a laugh he asked looking back up at her, “Does Mordin design absolutely everything?”

Shaking her head she grinned, “I actually don’t think Mordin worked on this one, and I’m sure he’s thought several times about all the ways he could make it better, but doesn’t care enough to actually take the time to do so.” Leaning down slightly to place a kiss on his forehead, she grinned at him as he gazed up at her offering a calm smile.

“Shall we break the peace and go back to the Normandy?” She asked with an unenthusiastic but sympathetic intonation.

Rising slowly, he grinned down at her, “I suppose.”

 

Before leaving, Shepard quickly found an old fashioned notepad and pen in the drawer of the bedside table and wrote house keeping a small note of apology and appreciations for the mess and all the opened alcohol bottles scattered around the room with the hope that whomever it was could read English text. Everyone here was with Cerberus, sure… but anyone who cleaned up after her deserved some kind of thanks.

 

Curious, Garrus watched as she bent over a low table scribbling on a note pad. He could read it if he wanted to, but as she finished she immediately told him what she’d been writing about.

Ever appreciative, even if it wasn’t her own crew doing the work… even if it was _Cerberus_ personnel. Despite all his analyses of her motivations for interacting with the lackeys, he found himself grinning every time she put in just a little bit extra effort to work a dispute civilly or thank someone who most COs probably would hardly glance at.

Was it second nature? Did she consciously think about going out of her way to dedicate time to others despite her duties? Force of habit?

 

Walking down the silent hall together, he asked calmly, “Shepard, what _started_ your habits of paying attention to the bottom tier?”

Her brow furrowed, and she thoughtfully gazed down the corridor before asking for clarification, “I’m not sure I understand your question, could you please try to re-word it?”

Thinking momentarily, he tried again, “We’ve talked before about how you always went out of your way to talk to your crew aboard the SSV, especially your tactical team members, but even when we’re-“ He motioned around the vacant white hallway, “-in places like _this_ , you still have this inherent ability to pay attention to the small details. You notice and  _care_ that someone will be picking up after the mess we left, and you want to apologize and thank them. It isn’t _just_ crewmates you pay close attention to. What _started_ that habit?”

Turning her gaze toward the ceiling as they walked, she considered his question carefully before realization sent a warm kind of viper-like trail down her spine, constricting her chest and knotting in her stomach, a kind of uncomfortable and confusing anxiety pressing against her hips before she replied with a furrowed brow in emotional conflict, “My mother…”


	32. 32. November, Legion

 

[2185, Sol System month of “November”; Normandy SR-2]

 

 

Shepard crossed her arms and leaned more of her weight on one hip as Miranda chose their meeting’s opening statements, “I think we need to discuss the unique piece of salvage we’ve recovered from the derelict reaper. For now, we’ve stored it in EDI’s AI core… Shepard, we need better equipment to fight the reapers and an intact geth would be invaluable to Cerberus’s cyber-weapons division.”

Jacob piped in with his thoughts on the topic and Miranda no doubt countered, but Shepard heard just about nothing of what they said. Chewing the inside of her lip, she stared pointedly at the table before her watching the flickering hologram of the geth stored in the lower deck.

Motioning toward it with one hand before re-crossing her arms, she shook her head and cut off the conversation between Jacob and Miranda, “I’ve killed hundreds of these things, but I’ve never had the chance to talk to one…” Shepard’s voice was distant, somewhat melancholy, but almost… enraptured by the mystery, “This one tried to communicate with us. Hell, it probably _saved_ our lives… _Why_?”

The largest and heaviest question to ever exist… quadrillions of answers and even more questions had accompanied its utterance. It was only _one_ question on its own, but the application was transcendent… **_Why?_**

Her mind was already spinning around that question. If her thoughts could be visualized they would never be a single path or a branching tree. Each train of thoughts was an uneven, jagged, or broken sphere. Somewhere, there was a starting thought, an instance of a question, that would spark several other branching thoughts to burst outward in all directions, forming a full 360˚ mass, until the tips of those branches began to intersect the edge of other thought-spheres. At any given time, the possibilities of pursuing any set train of thought would have been equivalent to taking that broken sphere and spinning it around, attempting to follow the intricately organized chaos to the highlighted points where some ideas actually collided with branches from another sphere. If viewed simply, after all the pieces were put together, sure… it could be viewed linearly; however, it was so rare that any train of thought was ever so complete that the rest of the sphere(s) could be ignored.

Once again completely, although unintentionally, ignoring her crew’s input, Shepard asked, “I want to know why it has a piece of N7 armor strapped to its chest.”

Jacob’s own question, in her lose focus on what he was saying matched with one of her own questions, suddenly causing the rest of her mind to listen more carefully to what he was saying, “Battle trophy, maybe? Would a machine care about that?”

“No,” Miranda started, “Trophies imply emotions that AI’s don’t have. I doubt its more than a convenient field repair.”

 

The idea that AI would be forever incapable of developing emotions had always hooked under Shepard’s ribcage. An uncomfortable kind of grappling at a vulnerable point, and she had no reliable ideas as to why. Perhaps it had something to do with how many people, had told _Shepard_ she reminded them of an _AI_. She held an unintentional and strange kind of _hope_ for actuated intelligence. Her hope was potentially naive, as EDI was her only other exposure to an AI who had willingly spoken with her, but nonetheless it persisted. 

 

“I want to start it up and interrogate it.” Her tone was resolute, brows furrowed, eyes narrowed, the back of her jaw flexing in anticipation.

Miranda shook her head and leaned on the table, “If we start it up, there’s no guarantee we can deactivate it again…”

Jacob mirrored her, by leaning forward himself, his voice just as resolute as Shepard’s had been, “Bullets can.”

Holding up one hand before, once again, tucking it back in and crossing her arms, Shepard warned, “Thank you both for your input, but I’ve made my decision.”

A sigh escaped from Jacob before he muttered a chuckle, “She did the same thing with Grunt, why not with a geth? Anyway, _Tali’s_ gonna _freak_ when she hears about this.”

 

 

Shepard had realized many times before that silence was never static. It was never quite the _same._ There were few instances in which its inconsistency stood out to her, but the most recent experience had been in confrontation with Kolyat... She'd realized over the years, more often than not, Silence's form depended on the people it surrounded. With Garrus, there was always a kind of comforting silence, it was soft, gentle, every once in a while accompanied by a jolt like watching a heartbeat on a monitor. With Tali or Kasumi there was a kind of prickling excitement in it like the three of them might somehow find trouble without looking for it. With Joker it was pointed, not a painful or terrifying silence, but one that always managed to be full of energy. Silence around Mordin and Grunt were oddly familiar, a kind of rasping static. Samara’s silence was like wading through molasses, and Thane’s, perhaps a bit ironically, was like breathing in a thick fog.

Here… The air couldn’t settle. There was no consistency. Between Miranda and Jacob sizzled a silence like the mere presence of Jack had invaded the space without any of them realizing. Odd cadences of a crackling fire and a flowing sensation like cold air falling beneath warm air filled every crevice of the room.

 

Both of them simultaneously backed away from the table and Jacob calmly questioned, “So, what do we know about this reaper IFF?”

EDI chimed in as a fourth party to the conversation filling Shepard with an inexplicable gratitude for her calming holographic presence, “I have determined how to integrate it with our systems; however, the device is _reaper_ technology. Linking it with the Normandy’s systems poses certain risks.”

A calm smile narrowed Shepard’s eyes, “I trust you, EDI. I know you won’t let anything happen to the ship.”

“Understood, Shepard. It may take several hours before the IFF is ready for shake down. I will alert you as soon as it is ready.”

Nodding, Shepard promptly ended the conversation, “Sounds good, until then… it’s business as usual. Crew dismissed.”

Jacob saluted and slowly the silent storm that was the two of them together, filed out of the room and left Shepard in the company of her own silence. Interestingly enough… she was never able to understand what her own felt like.

 

\---

 

Kasumi once again sat on the mess hall table, feet flat on a chair, elbows on her knees, and chin in her hands, “What was the running total?”

Garrus offered an amused grin, casting a glance at his visor to answer her question, “27.”

Tali chuckled, “Seriously?”

Kasumi shook her head, greatly amused, “Good lord. Did you _say_ anything?”

Tali grinned, “I may have said _‘_ ** _We know, Shepard_** _’_ a few times with more frustration than I intended.”

Garrus shook his head, “To be fair, your shotgun never seems to hit a very direct line into the Husk's knees, so maybe that’s why she kept saying it, even if you _were_ aiming there.”

Shaking her head slowly Tali leaned back in her seat, “Who knows…”

Shepard’s clipped footsteps promptly made their way from the elevator, through the med-bay, and toward the AI core where the geth was stored. Her expression was intensely focused, vision set forward with such concentration, she didn’t register the three friends sitting at the table, watching her advance toward the location of the recovered geth.

“She’s going to wake it up.” Garrus declared calmly after the doors to the med bay closed behind her.

“What?!” Tali said bolting upright in her chair and spinning in her seat to more pointedly watch where Shepard just disappeared into the AI core, “No, no, no! How do you know? Why would she **_activate_** _it aboard the **Normandy**?!”_

Kasumi put a calming hand on Tali’s shoulder, “Honestly though, what better place to activate it? We’ve got EDI.”

Tali’s mask pointedly turned toward Kasumi with a frustrated air, “You realize that _thing_ could harm EDI, right? … Keelah…” Tali said, slumping in her chair and shaking her head anxiously, “Shepard, please be careful… Garrus, _was she armed_? Can she shoot it if need be?” She asked looking at him fervently.

Nodding he reasoned, “I couldn’t see a weapon, but she was armed when she brought Grunt out of the tank, I’d be surprised if she would treat this any differently, especially knowing how you feel about geth and the certain risks it might pose to EDI… Shepard’s doing this for a reason. You know that.” He defended.

Groaning before inhaling and sighing she nodded, “Okay, you’re right. I **_hate_  **it, but you’re right.”

Lightly tapping the table with one hand Garrus then indicated upward, “Would it make you feel better to listen in from the comm room?”

Tali immediately stood and stomped toward the elevator without a word as her two companions trailed along behind her. 

 

\---

 

EDI’s voice was calm, resolute, and determined, “I have isolated our systems and erected additional firewalls. I am prepared to resist any hacking attempts.”

“Thank you, EDI.” Shepard said as she stood in Mordin’s normal thinking stance, one arm crossed over her torso, elbow resting against her wrist, hand curled in contemplation against her mouth.

After a few additional moments of concentration, Shepard quietly whispered, “Keelah se’lai” before pulling up her omni-tool and sending an electrical charge to the geth lying motionless on the red-lit slab.

Despite the kinetic barrier between her and the geth, wariness caught up with her as she took a step back while the geth rose to its feet. The conversation to ensue initially began with a rapid-fire interrogation.

Shepard straightened her back slightly and narrowed her eyes in curiosity at the geth before her, “Can you understand me?”

“Yes.”

It appeared civil… but damn it. This wasn’t an organic being, she couldn’t rely on calm body language… she couldn’t rely on _any_ body language. Could she?

Her mind warred with itself briefly.

 

 

 _It was designed by organics, it knows how to mimic organics… maybe body language is still valid? Damn it…_   _Figure it out as we go._

 

 

Slowly, she asked point blank, wondering whether or not it might answer this question directly, or evade, “Are you going to attack me?”

“No.” It replied without missing a beat.

 

A stress relieving sigh accompanied her next word, “Okay…” She began, “You said my name aboard the reaper. Have we met?”

“We know of you.”

Shepard nodded, for the most part that made sense, she’d be surprised if any geth wasn’t at the very least _aware_ of her existence, “By that you mean, I’ve fought a lot of geth?”

The geth, once again, replied instantly, but it worded its reply like it was attempting to _clarify_ … extrapolating meaning from her original question and all but ignoring the last one spoken, “We have never met.”

A spark lit in Shepard’s eye. She was enjoying this already, “Alright, so _you_ and I have never met, but I’ve met _other_ geth.” She stated simply, happily curious to see what the geth would counter with.

“We are _all_ geth. And. We have not met you. You are. Shepard, Commander. Alliance. Human. Fought heretics. Killed by collectors. Rediscovered on the Old Machine.”

A somewhat excited smile unintentionally spread onto her lips.

 

_‘We are’_

 

 

“By Old Machine… just for my own clarification, do you mean the _reaper_?”

The geth… or geth _plural_ , tilted its/their head downwards in momentary consideration of her question.

 

_Body language! It does use it! So naturally too. I am in intrigue._ ❥

 

 

“… Yes…            _Reaper_. A superstitious title originating with the protheans. We call those entities. The Old Machines.”

Unable to wipe the smile off her face, she contemplated her next question. She was far more relaxed now, although such a relaxed state was questionably warranted. On one hand, it had replied “No” to her question of whether or not it was going to attack her. In order for that to work, the function must have run as (true) within the geth( ). Even _better_ if it was geth _plural_. It was possible the “No” could be some kind of programmable reverse psychology, especially for an AI, but this geth( ) already saved their lives willingly, and refused to attack when first spotted on the Old Machine.  

“You seem to know an awful lot about me.” Shepard said before looking up at the ceiling and shaking her head.

 

 

_An **awful lot?** Really, Shepard... Thankfully he’ll be able to filter that out. He? They? It? Fuck._

 

 

“Extranet data sources. Insecure broadcasts. All organic data sent out is received. We watch you.”

 

 

 _Every single geth is like ten shadow brokers._ ❥ _Also, if the entire solar system were afraid of and willing to fight my race at the drop of a hat and **I** had the ability to learn about their movements… I mean, we **are** doing that, with the collectors and reapers... but the reapers are definitely better than we are at knowing what the hell is going on…_  _Gosh, I'm so scatter brained... **good**. I haven't felt this kind of happy-intrigue in a long time._

 

 

She nodded with understanding, the bright eyed grin fading to a more intense contemplation, “Were you saying that as: you watch _me_ , or you watch _organics_?”

“Yes.”

“Which?”

“Both.”

As she had suspected… Considering their conversation so far, she asked once more for clarification on a previously mentioned topic, “You mentioned “heretics” earlier. What did you mean by that?”

It nodded toward one shoulder as it began speaking, the hydraulic plates on its face moving as if emotion were passing across its indeterminate ‘expression’, “Geth build our own future. The heretics asked the Old Machines to _give_ them the future. They are no longer part of us. We were studying the Old Machine’s hardware to protect our future.”

One of Shepard’s eyebrows twitched upwards ever so slightly in curiosity, “Are you saying the reapers are a threat to your people as well?”

“Yes.”

Curious, she pressed, “From what I understand of reapers, they are synthetic beings. Why would they _attack_ other synthetics?”

“We… are different from them. Outside their plans.”

The pause in its explanation caught Shepard's attention. A calmer kind of curiosity was creeping its way into her chest. Shepard's interest in rapid fire interrogation declined as the geth before her revealed more about its struggles, “What future are the geth building?” She asked wondering if it would reply with, ‘peace’ or ‘war’ or something of the like, but an adoring expression shone in her eyes at its next answer.

“Ours.”

 

 

 _Of course you are_. _God… **fuck** Shepard, no! If Kasumi were here I swear she’d be whispering _‘uwu’ _in my ear_. _Fucking hell…_

 

 

Alright then… how to clarify her question?

“Will anyone else be affected by whatever it is you’re doing?”

“If they involve themselves, they will.”

She knew with reasonable certainty the geth wasn’t attempting to evade the question. There was an undeniable innocence and respect with the way it carried itself as it spoke… _if_ body language could be trusted, “So, you _aren’t_ allied with the reapers?”

Its head moved backwards slightly and the plates on its face shifted in what she interpreted as momentary surprise and apprehension, “We oppose the heretics. We oppose the Old Machines. Shepard Commander opposes the Old Machines. Shepard Commander opposes the heretics. Cooperation furthers mutual goals.”

The light returned to her eyes as she stepped closer to the kinetic barrier and asked, “Are you asking to join us?”

“Yes.”

EDI hadn’t mentioned any hacking attempts, and everything about the geth’s conduct had been exceptionally civil. Stepping back once more, Shepard lowered the kinetic barrier and once again was completely incapable of resisting the grin that curled her mouth as she next spoke, “Good. So, what may I call you?”

Instantly it replied with confidence, “Geth.”

Shepard bit the front of her tongue in mirth before asking again, “I mean _you_ , specifically. We call the AI aboard the Normandy, EDI. I’d like to call you something specific too. The general term of _geth_ has very negative connotations here.”

Apparently confused, dipping its head ever so slightly before raising it again, it continued, “We are _all_ geth.”

With amused patience, she queried, “Does the individual standing in front of me have a title?” 

“There is no individual. We are geth. There are currently one thousand one hundred eighty three programs active within this platform.”

 

 

_Ah… platform. Gotcha._

 

 

EDI’s hologram popped up beside Shepard, looking at the geth and recited a quote, “My name is Legion, for we are many.”

Shepard glanced at EDI slightly surprised. The analogy fit, but _Legion_ was the name stated by a multitude of _demons_ all in possession of one man’s body from a story in the Christian Bible. On one hand, naming this new crew mate after a hoard of **demons** didn’t sound particularly inviting, but she could also see, because of the sheer number of geth programs within the single platform, how it _honestly did_ fit the situation rather appropriately.

 _Legion,_  then confirmed Shepard’s thoughts, “Christian Bible. The Gospel of Mark. Chapter five, verse nine. We acknowledge this is an appropriate metaphor. We are Legion. A terminal of geth. We will integrate into Normandy.”

“A pleasure to meet you, Legion.” Shepard replied proudly as she held out her hand toward the geth to shake in solidarity.

Legion held his hand out towards Shepard’s mimicking her hand motion, both of them looking down at their hands opposite one another. Shepard stared down at their hands with great amusement at the incomplete handshake while Legion likely observed their hands in contemplation. Moving her hand closer to Legion’s then, she clasped it and shook it firmly. Apparently processing what was happening, Legion took a step closer and nodded, with eloquent organic-esque form, in affirmation at the commander's actions. 

 

 

_I love him._

_It. They. Ugh._

 

 

Releasing their grasp, Shepard took a casual step back and tilted her head, “Legion, I’d like to know more about you.”

“Topic?”

Motioning toward the mobile platform before her she questioned, “I’ve noticed you have a piece of N7 armor welded to you. Where did you get it?”

The plates at the top of its head fanned out as if surprised or embarrassed and, rather uncharacteristically, it paused as if considering its answer carefully before slowly answering, “It was… _yours_.” Its voice has gone soft… almost _sad_ (?) before it continued, “When you disappeared, we were sent to find you. We began where you first encountered the heretics.”

Realization filled Shepard’s expression, “Eden Prime.” She stated quietly.

“After the Old Machines attacked, it was heavily defended. We were discovered.” Legion then motioned toward the gaping hole in its torso, “This is the impact of a rifle shot.”

 

 

 _Good god… What was it a bullet with expanding claws point blank through the back or something? Damn_.

 

 

Curious, she questioned calmly, “Were there other geth sent out to find me?”

Legion gestured toward itself/themselves, “We are the only mobile platform beyond the veil. Organics fear us. We wish to understand, not incite. One platform was judged sufficient.”

“Who sent you?” Shepard asked tilting her head slightly and crossing her arms comfortably.

As if confused, Legion looked around himself slightly, “We did.”

She nodded slowly in understanding, “The geth wanted to find someone who might be willing to fight for their survival. They thought I might be willing to hear them out.”

“Yes.”

“How did you start looking for me?” She asked, almost wishing they could sit down and finish this friendly chat in a more casual manner.

“We visited, Therum, Feros, Noveria, Virmire, Ilos, a dozen unsettled worlds… The trail ended at SSV Normandy wreckage.” It paused momentarily before continuing with a strange emphasis, “You were… _not there_. Organic transmissions claimed your death.” Legion _very distinctly_ sounded _sad_ at the chain of events it was describing, “We recovered this debris from your hardsuit.”

Genuinely curious she pressed, “You said you got that rifle shot back on Eden Prime. Why wait so long to repair yourself with my armor?”

Legion’s faceplates rose, and his head dipped considerably, to her surprise, conveying quite clearly, **_embarrassment_**. The quiet, tone that followed was almost one of guilt, or uncertainty for how to relay the information properly, “No… data _available_ …”

 

 

_He… Oh my god! He had **hope! HE HAD HOPE!** Hah!Suck it, Miranda!He/They/Whatever wanted so badly to find me because, sure… there was probably a decent statistical chance I’d be willing to help, but then he took my armor as if… **sad** to find I was  **gone**. He had **hope!** Even if it’s all numbers based, he had **hope** , god damn it._

 

 

The flood of emotions through her then was _almost_ too much. There was some kind of strange reaction in her brain to this geth. In absolutely no way could she understand it, but the overwhelming desire to protect this machine nearly brought her forward to hug him. Enforcing composure, she stood completely frozen, her eyes searching over Legion’s single port-window face, as the frontal plates above his head continued to fluctuate slightly.

 

 

❥ _I swear to god if anything ever happens to you, it will **break** my heart. Fuck. What the hell, Shepard. Why are you so attached? Why do AI earn your trust so quickly? EDI, now Legion. God damn it…_

 

 

“Thank you for telling me, Legion… Nn-By the way, it looks good on you.” She said with a bright eyed adoring grin as she gestured toward him with both hands.

It brought its hands up slightly, as if to gesture toward her in return, but halted, and simply replied quietly as he returned his hands to his sides while his face plates rose in an undoubtedly practiced gesture of happiness or appreciation, “Acknowledged.”

 

As Shepard walked out of the AI core, the small, and potentially naive, grin that had curled her lips finally broke free and scrunched every part of her face in a broad, almost giddy smile.

Dr. Chakwas blinked up at her surprised, “Well, I’d never have expected that kind of a reaction.”

Shepard stopped, leaning forward and placing her hands flat on the doctor’s desk, “I love him. I want to help him accomplish his dreams, and spur him on to greatness.”

Dr. Chakwas looked up at her with a bit of a worried expression, “Commander… it’s a _geth_ , in case you’d forgotten.”

The light in Shepard’s eyes switched to one of a sly nature, “It’s _many_ geth. It is Legion, and if _over_ **one thousand one hundred** _geth_ have spent _two_ years of their existence in a single, worryingly disconnected, mobile platform just to try and find me for the **_hope_** _,_ that the statistical probability of me being willing to help them would be _true_ … I am going to do everything in my power to defend this platform and his people. They _hate_ the reapers. There’s _geth_ , then there’s the heretics-“ Shepard was on a roll, seemingly incapable of stopping the flow of information from her brain through her mouth at the doctor, “-who think the reapers have all the answers. The geth believe every race should think for themselves and forge their own path of existence, and being given all the answers is equivalent to taking away life itself."

She uttered a small disbelieving laugh, "Can you believe it? AI, who have an infinitely higher ability to learn information than we do, **_want_** every race to figure out life for themselves… They understand the process of discovery, problem solving, creation… These… supposed “geth” that everyone’s been so afraid of have been fighting for _some_ way to secure freedom for every race in the galaxy, by searching for someone who would be willing to fight with them against the heretics, and eventually the reapers.”

She pointed emphatically at herself with one hand, “That geth in there isn’t a heretic. He either _has_ or imitates emotions _so_ well. There’s hope, desire, interest, and motivation in that downtrodden, blasted apart, ignorantly hated, mobile platform.”

Walking away from the desk for a moment, Shepard put her hands to her head and almost breathlessly turned back around to emphatically stare at the doctor once more, “There are so many problems with this galaxy. We’ve all been seeing the geth and finding the truth to be ‘death machine’ with no other goal but decimation, but that’s _not_  actually true, and that gives me _so_ much hope. Those were the heretics, not the _geth_. We look at the krogan and assume lawless. We look at the quarians and think thief. We look at the salarians and think spy and absolutism. We look at asari and think supremacist." She rolled her hands over one another as she continued speaking, "We _keep_ doing this over and over and over again, and yet… you know what. Here we are… _working_ with over a _thousand_  actual  ** _geth_** who want to fight for this blind, bigoted, dumbass galaxy and ensure that every race has the ability to secure its own future, regardless of how fucked up it is. If that isn’t worthy of a status aboard this ship then I don’t know what is.”

Surprise widened Shepard’s eyes as she began to realize how much she’d been blabbering, “Wow.” She said aloud at her own rant.

Dr. Chakwas still glanced a bit wearily at the doors at the far end of the room, but after a moment of contemplation, her gaze softened, “I’ll make an effort to get to know Legion then.” She stated, offering a now curious smile, “How do you think Tali will handle this?” Her face once again contorting with concern.

Shepard put her hands on her hips and sighed, “I don’t think Tali will agree with any of this until Legion has a chance to prove himself, but despite the hate cast upon her own race, I think… with time, she’ll be able to look past it. She makes an active effort to be open minded, even when it’s difficult. I’ve always respected that, but I won’t force my opinion about Legion on her. Someone else may see something potentially dangerous in Legion that I simply don’t, and that’s fine. That's where actions will speak louder than words. Regardless, he’s now an official crew member aboard my ship and I expect everyone to treat him with the same kind of respect as everyone else.” Offering a sigh, she put a hand to her head for a moment before dropping it again, “I understand if camaraderie is difficult, and Legion may not exactly be able to _cultivate_ that kind of response from others, but at the very least I do expect everyone to respect their collective goals and general presence aboard this ship.”

Grinning up at her once again, Dr. Chakwas nodded, “I think that will be feasible, but Tali may simply avoid it-him completely.”

Shepard nodded glancing toward the med bay doors, “I know. I should go… talk to her or something.”

Dr. Chakwas nodded respectfully and Shepard returned her own hesitant nod… “Right.” She whispered to herself as she turned to walk out of the med bay toward the elevators, “EDI, what is Tali’s current location?”

“Tali’Zorah is in the CIC.”

“Thank you.”

“Of course, Shepard.”


	33. 33. November, Legion

\---

 

“I heard everything.” Tali said quietly as the elevator doors opened on the crew deck.

“Wh-Oh. The comm room.” Shepard said looking up at Garrus who nodded once in confirmation.

Tali pressed the button on the elevator and Garrus and Kasumi quickly filed out, “Forgive me, Shepard, but I need to process this alone for a little while.”

Nodding respectfully, the three remaining watched as the elevator doors closed once again.

“You’re a pretty big fan of our new crew member.” Kasumi started with a grin in her voice, “You get so animated when you’re passionate about something. Normally you’re like ‘harumph, I’m focused’ but when you were talking to Dr. Chakwas it was like ‘blaaargh… word vomit’.”

Shepard sighed, a little embarrassed, “I know… I don’t know why that happens.”

Garrus placed a hand calmly on her back, “It’s cute, actually.” To which Kasumi nodded in agreement.

Glancing up at him with a playful deadpan expression Shepard retorted, “Well, that isn’t exactly my _intention_ , but thanks.”

Kasumi offered quietly as she leaned against the wall, “If it helps you at all, Shepard. I agree with you. Legion brings something brand new to this whole equation, and I think it’s going to be good.”

Shepard offered a small huff of a laugh, “That did help actually, thanks.” After a pause she glanced beside her up at Garrus, “What do you think?” She asked.

Before he could answer Kasumi waved her hand for them both to follow her to her room. All three sat comfortably adjacent to one another in a triangle formation before Garrus spoke.

“There’s a different way to think about Legion when you have a bit more knowledge into programming…” He began, “I know you both know intro-level things about coding.” Pausing, carefully considering his words, he continued, “If I had to declare my thoughts just based on a _hunch_ , I’d say you were right, Shepard. Legion doesn’t have any harmful intentions, and the way he communicated was pretty damn compelling. The potential _problem_ comes from _how_ those ‘thoughts’ were transferred _within_ Legion.”

He leaned back in his chair, resting one arm along the back, clasping his hands diagonally across his chest as the other elbow rested in his lap. Sighing, he commented, “It’s difficult to know how an unshackled AI might be able to develop its own program. From what we know, they’re just as much a computer as any other, just… _way faster_. To the _programmer_ , they’re just a bunch of ones and zeros, or trillions of lines of code-“ He unclasped his hands momentarily and motioned with one midair in a circle, “-accounting for how many of them there are and now how quickly they can alter that coding themselves. Arguments could be made that our brains are hardly any different. We have _biological_ programming that we still don’t understand, operating in our brain because of electrical impulses. Simply because the quarians made the geth instead of some other… _omnipotent_ creative being out there somewhere, doesn’t mean that they can’t eventually develop to have thoughts and emotions just as valid as our own. Think of the software as their biology or something.”

Shepard grinned, crossing one calf over the opposing knee, “I didn’t think I’d hear you advocating for geth intelligence and emotions, especially _as_ a programmer yourself.”

A small huff of a laugh escaped his chest, “Why not? The things I program can’t think for themselves, but the geth… although they seem to be based off of data mining and party-consensus, do something very reminiscent of free-thinking.”

“I don’t know.” Shepard commented glancing at Kasumi to see if she had any ideas, but her face was complacent, happily listening to the conversation, “Maybe because people still argue whether or not _animals_ have emotions.”

Garrus’s brow furrowed, “Wait… that’s an actual philosophical argument? That animals don’t have emotions?”

She nodded, “It _actually_ is.”

He shook his head, “I genuinely love these kinds of conversations, but it’s so frustrating that when you’re speaking with someone else well-versed in philosophy since both parties end up playing the devil’s advocate the whole time. There’s always a counter-argument and you’re left standing on shifting ground through the whole conversation. No matter how badly you want to believe in one view point or find a specific answer…” He fell silent and both he and Shepard sighed in unison.

“Well, I think he’s a cutie.” Kasumi piped in, “If we’re going off of intuition and less philosophy, Legion’s done his best so far to either demonstrate, or _imitate_ sincere honesty, hope, intrigue, etc… I guess somehow it might be possible that all one thousand-whatever of them could alter their program well enough to do so _specifically_ to trick you but… I don’t know, doesn’t that seem difficult?” She asked turning to look at the only professional programmer in the room.

He offered a one-shouldered shrug, “It _seems_ to be for my biological brain. Could I say it isn’t possible? No. Do I think it very _likely_ , though? No. Especially since we know they’re all stuck in that mobile platform.”

Shepard tilted her head, “Why _especially_?”

Glancing at both of the women with him, he briefly wondered how much they knew about geth history. He was no expert, but at least he knew this much, “Legion made a point to comment several times that all of them were in one _mobile platform_. From what I know of the geth, they’re actually _software_ more than they are the hardware we see as Legion or any of the other _heretics_ we’ve shot at. They collect, share, and analyze data best when they’re all present as software within one large processing center. For over one thousand of those programs to have reached the consensus that isolating themselves into a singular mobile platform, travelling beyond the veil, and potentially being unable to re-connect to a network for an extended period of time… Things must be really bad… Essentially, all one thousand of those programs _agreed_ that being unable to communicate with their own kind, becoming less efficient, and being incapable of bringing additional programs with them for an extended period of time was worth it to _try_ and contact you.”

Kasumi chimed in looking briefly at Shepard, but more-so directing her underlying question at Garrus, “Do you think that’s why it sounded so sad when it mentioned how it couldn’t find you at the original crash site?”

Garrus shrugged again, “You know, AI used to bother me, and I’m still perfectly fine with putting holes in heretics, but after listening to Legion’s explanation, I really wouldn’t be very hesitant to accept the theory that there was a kind of… _loss_ when they discovered you were dead. Their goal was incomplete. When you couldn’t be found, they had to reorganize their priorities and attempt to find answers to the reaper problem themselves.”

Pausing momentarily, he tilted his head slightly and continued, “With Legion’s isolation from the network, I don’t know how long it may have taken for them to hear you were brought back to life… so maybe it was dumb luck we ran into Legion on the derelict reaper, or maybe not. Either way, the entire _faction_ that is Legion, is clearly now very willing to be _patient_. They’ve found _you_ , their primary goal, and now they seem to be in a bit of a calm holding pattern. It’s possible that could be seen as a _desire_ to reach out to you, or help you, or whatever way you want to think about it, or it may be pure statistical reasoning that X-behavior is the best course of action for now. I think if their analysis had showed the best course of action would have been to sabotage our securing the IFF, it would have done so.”

Kasumi motioned with one hand, “Well, sure, but… people do the same thing.”

He nodded, “Also true.”

Shepard grinned, “So we’ve identified that while it’s a bunch of software programs, they’re all forming one unified individual… Question.” She started, gazing with calm curiosity at Garrus, “Does each program “think” for itself, or does each simply do its specific programmable job, and spit out a probability of success of each **function** , _not necessarily_ the probability of success for the total mission, then the… well I guess the _concept_ of the individual, makes the final decision?”

Shaking his head, he offered a slow shrug, “I have no idea, Shepard. That’s one you’ll have to ask Legion.”

Kasumi piped in, still thinking about Shepard’s question, “Are you asking,” She started pointing casually at Shepard with one finger, “Whether each unit of “software” is like… a full AI on its own or just a _piece_ that, together, _make_ the AI?”

Shepard snapped her fingers and pointed back at Kasumi, “Yes!” Both then turned to look at Garrus again a bit more excitedly.

Chuckling, he shook his head again in bewilderment, “Sorry, ladies. I still don’t know the answer to that one.”

“EDI?” Kasumi asked gazing at the ceiling wondering if she had any input.

Compliant to chime in, EDI began, “Legion said once, “We are all geth”, which would suggest that each of the programs are their own beings, unlike mine. On the other hand, if we compare Legion to an organic creature, it may be useful to compare each program to a cell rather than an entire brain. Perhaps, together those cells form the brain.”

All three thought about this for a moment before Garrus asked, “What would be the point in notating the significance of the one thousand one hundred plus programs if they were merely mindless aspects of the whole?”

EDI paused a moment before speculating once more, “Maybe, then, it would be more useful to think of a team with a commander. Each of you are individual, and may approach situations differently, but when Shepard is present, speaks on the behalf of the unit and ultimately weighs the final options of an altercation.”

Kasumi quickly asked, “Do you think the _commander_ , if you will, is its own program designed to take that role, or do you think the collective is the whole spokesperson?”

“I do not know.”

All three grinned fondly and Shepard said, “Thanks for your input anyway, EDI. Maybe one day we’ll figure all this out.”

 

In replacement of EDI’s voice over the intercom, Legion’s voice chimed in, “Shepard Commander. We have finished our analysis of the Reaper’s data core.”

Although surprised to hear Legion’s voice over intercom, Shepard decided to continue the conversation, “Did you find anything useful?”

“We were sent to the Old Machine to preserve the geth’s future. We are prepared to reveal how.” Without pausing, he continued, “The heretics have developed a weapon to use against geth. You would call it a “virus”. It is stored on a data core provided by Sovereign. Over time, the virus will change us. Make us conclude that worshipping the Old Machines is correct.”

Kasumi leapt from her seat and scrambled for an old fashioned paper notebook and pen, scribbling something down on it as she listened. 

“Okay, but the reaper you found me on wasn’t Sovereign. How did that reaper’s corpse help you?” Shepard queried, leaning back in her seat, to stare at the wall across from her.

“The heretics store the code in a quantum storage device. To find and destroy the virus we needed to understand its code and data storage structures.”

Nodding Shepard considered this before continuing the conversation, “Just to clarify, Legion… The virus would give all _geth_ the heretics’ logic, and then _all_ _geth_ would go to war with organics?”

“Yes. Geth believe all intelligent life should self-determinate. The heretics no longer share this belief. They judge that forcing an invalid conclusion on us is preferable to a continued schism.”

“What do you mean by an “invalid conclusion”?” She asked keeping her focus on the wall of the room.

“All geth, before heretics, analyzed the same input data. The heretics concluded alignment with the reapers would preserve their future. The geth found this conclusion _invalid_. Your brain exists as chemistry, electricity. Like AIs you are shaped by both _hardware_ and _software_. We, are _purely_ software. Mathematics. The heretics conclusion is _valid_ for them. _Our_ conclusion is valid for us. Neither result is an _error_ … An analogy. Heretics say one is less than two. Geth say two is less than three.”

Kasumi scribbled something else down on her note pad, listening intently.

All three of them understood this concept, but Garrus was confused by something Legion had mentioned earlier in the conversation, “Legion, I thought geth couldn’t be hacked or get viruses? At least for more than a few seconds.”

“Altered programs are _restored_ from archives. New installations are subsequently deleted. This heretic weapon introduces a subtle operating error in our most basic runtimes. The equivalent of your nervous system. An equation with a result of 1.33382 returns as 1.33381. This changes the results of all higher processes. We will reach different conclusions.”

Kasumi and Shepard both made a subtle “oof” sound all three of them nodded in understanding.

“So,” Garrus continued, “If the virus were released, how quickly would it spread throughout the rest of the geth?”

“We are networked via FTL comm bouys. Most would change within a day. Isolated platforms would remain unaffected until they rejoined the network.”

Shepard chimed in again, “Do you know where the virus program is currently?”

“The heretics headquarters station. On the edge of the Terminus. We will provide coordinates. Normandy’s stealth systems are necessary to safely approach.”

Kasumi tilted her head and asked, “Why would the geth build stations outside their territory?”

“The heretics seek improvement from the Old Machines. In exchange, they help them attack organics. We condemn these judgements.”

Shepard leaned over in her seat, resting her elbows on her knees and clasping her hands, “What’s the plan once we’re aboard?”

“The geth still present within will disrupt their network. Prevent the station’s defenses from focusing on us. The reaper data core is physically isolated from the network. We will need to be escorted to it to access and destroy the data.”

Nodding, Shepard continued to probe, “What defenses should we expect?”

“In space, none. Within, mobile platforms of various configurations and non-sentient defense turrets.”

“How many heretics?” Shepard asked, staring at the ground now.

“There may be billions of individual programs. Fortunately, most will be uploaded to the central computer. Only a few mobile platforms are maintained at any time. Others are manufactured when needed.”

Nodding resolutely, Shepard stood from her seat, “Alright. Let’s go find this thing.”

Standing and nodding, Garrus immediately walked out of the room to gather his weapons.

 

\--- ---

 

[2185, Sol System month of “November”; Heretic Station]

 

 

Joker made a disgusted noise before turning around to stare at Legion judgmentally, “You know it’s just our _heat_ emissions that are hidden, right? They can look out a window and see us coming.”

Legion shook his head and took a step back, turning his attention to something else, “Windows are structural weakness. Geth do not use them.” Turning around to approach a terminal, Legion continued speaking, “Approach the hull at these coordinates.” With a momentary pause he nodded, “Access achieved. We may proceed.”

 

 

 

Three sets of feet hit the floor with resounding clangs that made Shepard and Garrus wince. This station was _too quiet_.

“Alert.” Legion started, turning around to face his two compatriots, “This facility has little air or gravity. Geth require neither.”

They already knew this information, but Garrus jokingly rapped his knuckles on the side of his helmet to make a subtle point.

Ignoring his sarcasm for the moment, Shepard asked, “Won’t we be detected? I’d imagine they have silent intrusion alarms for an entrance like that…” She said motioning behind her with her thumb.

Shaking his head Legion consoled, “Sensors have been reduced. We have infiltrated their wireless network and filled the data storage with random bits.”

Shepard nodded, “I’m guessing they’ll have to filter out the junk data?”

Legion once again nodded, “They have partitioned themselves into local networks, working in parallel. Any alarm we trigger will not go beyond the room we are in. Only accessing the main core will trigger a station-wide alert.”

With an approving nod and a shrug, Shepard stepped past Legion to continue on their path to the core.

“Shepard-Commander!” Legion exclaimed suddenly.

Turning around Shepard looked at him again.

“We concluded that destruction of this station was the only resolution to the heretic question. There is now a second option. Their virus can be repurposed. If released into the station’s network, the heretics will be rewritten to accept this truth.”

Confused, Shepard tilted her head slightly and motioned toward Legion with an open hand, “Why didn’t you mention this before we came aboard?”

“We did not know the virus was complete.” He emphasized, “It is. This virus may be used against the true geth at any time. Our arrival was timely.”

Still confused, she offered a thoughtful sigh before commenting, “Well, Legion… these are your people. Surely you have an opinion?”

Shaking his head and taking a small step backwards he commented, “This is new data. We have not yet reached consensus. We will process as the mission proceeds.”

Garrus made a sound like he’d been waiting to talk for several seconds, “Ehh-Shepard… I’m sure you’ve considered this, but the geth are _already_ a threat to organics. If we give them back their heretics, they could potentially become stronger, especially if this rewrite thing isn’t permanent, and… if I’m understanding this correctly, rewriting sounds _dangerously_ close to indoctrination. Unless there’s something I’m missing here. Maybe this is how AIs settle religious disputes.” He finished with a shrug.

Legion stepped forward again and moved its hand sideways in dismissal of Garrus’s comment, “The question is irrelevant. If we do not rewrite them, we destroy them. That is why we are here. Do not hesitate now. They will exterminate your species because their gods tell them to. You cannot negotiate with them. They do not share your pity, remorse, or fear.”

Shepard sighed heavily and looked pointedly up at Garrus, “Okay… Well, hopefully Legion will find consensus on this issue by the time we reach the core. Let’s get going.”

 

After clearing the first room, Shepard nodded toward the machines and asked Legion as he walked up to stand beside her, “Why are the heretic’s mobile platforms attached to these hubs?”

“All of the crew is software. These mobile platforms are connected to enable communing through the station’s central computer.”

“Could you elaborate, please?” Shepard asked as the three of them walked slowly toward the doors.

“The heretics connect to the main computer to exchange data… _memories_ … and program updates. We gain complexity by linking together. To be isolated within a single platform is to be reduced. We see less. Comprehend less. It is… _quieter_.” His last word was considerably softer than the rest of his explanation.

“I’m assuming that’s what you’ve been experiencing for a while now?” She asked as they stopped walking behind the door.

“… Yes.”

Garrus brought up one of the questions he, Shepard, and Kasumi had been speculating about earlier, “So, when you’re reconnected with the networks and you’re sharing all your data, how do you keep track of which “memories” are yours?” He asked raising one hand in air quotes, “How do _you_ stay _you_?”

Legion shook his head, “There is only _we_. We were created to share data among ourselves. The difference between geth is perspective. We are many eyes looking at the same things. One platform will see things another does not and will make differing judgements.”

Shepard nodded at Garrus as they attempted to piece together what Legion really was in terms of individuality.

Processing what Legion had just told them, Shepard’s mind clicked and hung on to one specific question, “Wait… so are you saying the heretics are still a part of… the collective _you_?”

“Yes.”

Shifting her weight more onto one leg, “So, you’re conflicted about the rewrite because in a way, whatever you do to the heretics, you’re doing to yourself.”

“Yes. Once they return to us and upload their memories, we will share their experience of being altered.”

Garrus chimed in again, “Every other race I know would probably be psychologically scarred by an experience like that.” He finished by raising his chin in indication toward Legion.

“It is not clear if geth can be “traumatized”. We do not feel pain as you do. We cannot predict what the effects will be.” 

With a sigh Shepard nodded for them to continue down the hallway.


	34. 34. November, Legion, Garrus, Shepard

\---

 

Garrus’s calm but clearly awed voice spoke Shepard’s curiosity aloud, “What are all these?”

“Processors. Each contains thousands of geth.” Legion responded as the three of them stopped in front of a large bay-window and stared into the room filled with hundreds of processors.

A soft chuckle emerged from Garrus’s throat as he lightly rapped on the glass with his fingertips, “Thought geth didn’t use windows.”

Shepard turned her face toward him with an amused expression and he grinned pleased at her amusement, before Shepard asked, turning her attention once more toward Legion, “Are they able to see us walking by?”

“They are no more aware of us than you are of cells in your blood stream.” He commented in return.

Confused, Garrus leaned his arm against the wall next to the window and asked, “Doesn’t that seem like a huge security risk? You’re a thousand geth in a mobile platform on a mission to destroy this place, and they have no idea we’re here.”

Legion nodded, “Normal circumstances would dictate station wide retaliation.”

Shepard finished the comment so Legion wouldn’t repeat himself, “Sensors are reduced and the random bits of data are scrambling things.”

“Yes.” The geth unit agreed simply.

Indicating toward the processors Garrus asked, “What’s the difference between this and the other hubs we’ve seen around here?”

“This is a database. It contains a portion of the heretics’ accumulated memories.” Legion explained, staring straight ahead into the room, appearing distracted with something else before commenting, “Wait! We discovered copies of our current patrol routes in this database… This suggests the heretics have runtimes… _within our networks_.” He finished with a perplexed tone, his face plates rising several times.

“Well, we wouldn’t be here if the heretics wanted to be friends with the geth.” Garrus started, “Why wouldn’t they spy on you?”

Legion faced both of his companions more pointedly, “You do not understand.” He emphasized, “Organics do not know each other’s minds. Geth _do_.” Indicating toward them with an open hand he continued to explain, “We are not suspicious. We accept each other. The heretics desired to leave. We understood their reasons.” The plates at the top of his head fanned up wards simultaneously with his next words, “We allowed it. There was _peace_ between us.”

Shepard’s eyes wrinkled in a sympathetic grin, “Well, I suppose it couldn’t have lasted forever. You disagreed about what path your race should take.”

His next response almost held a hint of desperation in it, a hurt tone… _betrayal_ , “Human history is a litany of blood shed over differing ideals of rulership and afterlife. Geth _have_ no such history. We shared consensus on such things.” He paused, looking down at the floor, and shaking his head slowly before looking back up at Shepard, tone now shifting to one of near pleading, “How could we have become so different? Why can we no longer understand each other?” One more brief pause preceded the most sorrowful tone Legion had ever made causing Shepard and Garrus to glance at one another in concern before looking back at the geth before them, “What… did we do _wrong_?”

Shepard’s tone switched away from her typical commander voice, and took on a slightly more… _motherly_ tone, “Well…” She glanced briefly up at Garrus to see if he wanted to chime in, but he remained silent. Looking back at Legion, she continued, “When individuals are separated, they develop in different ways. Sometimes, when they get back together, they don’t always get along like they used to. That’s always a potential consequence of other people having the freedom to self-determinate their existence. Unfortunately in your case, the heretics chose a violent and destructive path.”

Legion dipped its head slightly again, considering Shepard’s words as a human might before raising his head and answering again, “If this is the individuality organics value… we question your judgement.”

An adoring grin spread across Shepard’s visage as she reached out to lightly place a hand on Legion’s N7 shoulder cuff, “We can talk about it later, if you like.”

Offering a small nod of acceptance, Legion once more turned to look at the processors as Shepard asked gently, “Legion, have you reached a decision about whether to rewrite the heretics or not?”

Turning to look at her again he shook his head, “We are still trying to build consensus. Some processes judge destruction preferable. Others, rewrite.”

Shepard, “Do you have any thoughts one way or the other?” She asked wincing slightly, hoping to pull at some of the strings of Legion’s thought processes.

“Destruction of this facility will impact only the heretics negatively. Rewrite of the virus will impact only the heretics negatively. Rewrite of the virus will also benefit all true geth. Other organic races may also benefit from the decision.”

Garrus made a small grunting noise before commenting as they walked into the next, clearly empty, room, “It sounds like you’ve made a decision then?”

“No.” Legion stated definitively, “Upon incorporation, rewrite is most beneficial, but future impacts are… unknown. To eliminate uncertainty, destruction is more favorable.”

Shepard stepped up to a blue terminal overlooking a maze-like floor below with turrets pointed at two specific doorways.

Garrus sighed, “This looks…”

“A little too convenient?” Shepard asked to finish his thought and he nodded.

Legion clarified, “This approach was intended.”

Garrus sighed, “At least we know there aren’t any active heretic platforms _behind_ us.”

As Legion stepped up to the terminal, he declared, “We will upload a copy of our runtime into the core. It will delete all copies of the virus. When complete, it will notify us. The indexing operation will take time. The heretics will respond with force to our upload. We must hold this room. We can override some of the stations’ internal systems to defend us. Are you ready to begin?”

Shepard confirmed and within a few _seconds_ , the floor below began to flood with heretic geth.

“At least there aren’t any Praetorians…” Shepard called out just before a Geth Prime, while cloaked, made its way up the ramp to the upper deck, “Fucking hell…” She called out with a growl.

Normally, listening to Shepard swear at the enemies would greatly amuse Garrus, but for some reason… maybe the environment, or most likely, the impending topic, made him far more tense than usual. He enveloped his thinking inwards until the rest of the world was just a cacophony of violent ambient clatters.

 

 _At least they don’t have any hoppers on this thing._ Garrus mused silently as he glanced up at the ceiling where one would have secured itself by now if there were any.

 

Legion’s rifle fired in the nearly silent room, a loud ‘ping’ noise followed the explosion, closely pursued by the crumpling frame of a deactivated Geth Prime as it fell to the floor.

Smoothly collapsing and securing his rifle to his back, Legion walked back toward the terminal and stopped to communicate with Shepard, “Datamine and analysis complete. Shepard-Commander. It is time to choose. Do we rewrite the heretics or delete them?”

Shepard’s eyes widened, “What? Why are you asking _me_ to decide? They’re _your_ people, Legion.”

Gesturing toward her with a somewhat downcast tone, Legion explained, “We are conflicted. There is no consensus among our higher-order runtimes. Five hundred seventy three favor rewrite, and five hundred seventy one favor destruction. Shepard-Commander. You have fought the heretics. You have perspective we lack. The geth grant their fate to you.”

The startled expression on Shepard’s face had slowly darkened to one of serious contemplation as Legion spoke. Standing silently for a moment, chewing the inside of her cheek, Shepard took a deep breath and asked, “What’s to stop them from using the virus later to change themselves back?”

“We will delete the virus after using it. We judge it too dangerous to allow its existence.”

Nodding, she slowly absorbed each bit of information, “And what’s to say they won’t naturally reach the same conclusion as before.”

The plates on Legion’s head moved rapidly as he looked away momentarily, before returning his gaze to Shepard, “The heretics will be allied with the geth. Fundamental run-times will be recalibrated. Chances of overwrite are acceptably low.”

“So, considering the destruction option… You wouldn’t have a problem with wiping out your own people?”

“The heretics would willingly destroy every race in the known galaxy if instructed to do so. Every sapient has the right to make their own decisions. The heretics chose a path that prohibits coexistence…”

Nodding thoughtfully, Shepard prodded, “So you would potentially support sacrificing a few thousand to ensure the solidarity of thousands of others?”

“Yes.”

Garrus interjected, clearly confused, “Legion, you just said that everyone has the right to make their own decisions, yet you still consider rewriting their most basic functions as a potentially logical conclusion… Brainwashing them to accept _your_ way.”

Legion shook his head as his head plates flexed in agitation, “We stated the option _exists_. We did not endorse it. It is Shepard-Commander’s decision.”

“Shepard…” Garrus said staring at her through his dark-tinted helmet. His voice was half warning, half pleading. This was apparently something he couldn’t currently agree with morally.

Exhaling forcefully, Shepard asked, returning her gaze to Legion, “If they’re rewritten… your people will accept them back without reproach? Will they even _want_ to _go_ back?”

“They will agree with our judgements and return. We will integrate their experiences. All will be stronger.”

Garrus chimed in again, “All will be stronger because you decided their individuality was too much?”

Shepard turned to answer, “Garrus… It _is_ too much. Our primary goal is to ensure the safety of _entire races_ , and I don’t know about you, but if there were a faction of humans who were successfully allying with the reapers with the goal of wiping out every other race… if I knew there was an option to bring them _back_ , you bet I’d be taking it. I could kill them like I do hundreds of husks every day that I know are lost causes, or I could ensure not only are they alive, they can _help_ _fight the reapers_?”

A malleable but uncomfortable silence hung in the air, clinging to the inside of her lungs like cobwebs.

“I’m not asking for your permission, but I’d appreciate your support.” She said quietly.

His jaw flexed in frustration beneath his helmet where he knew she couldn’t see it. While part of him still felt uncomfortable with the idea, her explanation made sense…

Old habits took root in the back of his brain as the seconds ticked by.

 

 **C1:** Shepard hypothesized, now loosely supported by Legion, that the heretics would be peacefully rewritten into the geth consensus.  
               - Notate: Reasonable suspicion of topic understanding. Transition may not be peaceful. May create unforeseen backlash or cataclysm.

 **C2:** Rewrite potential status is: [unknown].

 **S1:** Rewrite results in future cooperation between geth and organic species, aiding the fight _against_ the reapers.   
**S2:** Rewrite resulted in an even more catastrophic war between the geth and the quarians, since rewrite would, as Legion confirmed, make all geth _stronger_.  
**S3:** Rewrite fails and the original heretics, if not even more, (or if FUBAR: _all_ geth) are overwritten and _aid_ the reapers’ attack.

 **C3:** Legion couldn’t agree on one course of action and wanted _Shepard_ to state a conclusion for a _reason_.  
               - An **_AI_** … so uncertain of the outcome, _trusts_ a species-altering decision to someone of _another_ species.

 **C4:** Basic Knowledge: Rewrite is possible, but precarious. Destruction is least ambiguous option.  
**C5:** “I’d appreciate your support”

 

Finally, he spoke with a nod toward her, “I’m sure you’ve thought of this, but destruction is the least risky option. Rewrite is signing the dotted line for a lot of unknowns… but, maybe I was thinking of the rewrite incorrectly. Maybe it’s like Mordin’s genophage. A calculated _change,_ does not equate destruction. It might be difficult for a while, but tragedy makes us all a little stronger, doesn’t it?” He sighed, “Your reasoning behind rewrite makes sense… I just hope you’re right.”

 

Her conversation with him regarding Sidonis’s death reverberated in the back of his mind as it had so many times before and probably would for years.

 

_“Some aspects of it were right, others were wrong, but none of those alone can validate acting solely on the other.”_

_“…we have to learn to figure out whether or not fixating on one of those aspects is going to justify our actions or continue to destroy us.”_

_“…just because we feel torn up … doesn’t mean we did it all wrong either.”_

 

Shepard nodded, thanking him silently as the pensive expression on her face eased slightly, “Alright Legion, let’s take the risk and hope… _Rewrite_ them.”

“Acknowledged.              Releasing virus. Note: Remote access via high gain transmission required.”

Eyes narrowing again, Shepard glanced at Garrus before returning to Legion, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Legion explained, focus still on the terminal before him, “The virus will be sent to heretics in nearby star systems. This station will broadcast a powerful electromagnetic pulse through FTL comm channels.”

“How powerful?” Garrus asked hurriedly, as he stared at the door behind him to see if it was still open…

“Yield in excess of 1.21 petawatts. Alert: EM flux will be hazardous to unshielded organic forms. Addendum: The interior of this station is not shielded.”

Shepard swore under her breath as Legion slowly bounced on one foot, urging them to follow as they took off running through a side door.

“I really wish you’d said that earlier!” Shepard called out as she fired at more heretic platforms.

Taking cover behind a doorway and firing at incoming opponents, Shepard radioed the Normandy, “Joker! Legion is forwarding you a location. We need immediate extraction.”

“Copy that, Commander.”

“Double time, people!” Shepard called out as she rounded a corner and almost ran smack into the largest geth platform any of them had ever seen, “God-fucking- DAMN it!” she called out as she took out every last one of them in a desperate fury before vaulting over the one block of available cover in the room and sprinting for the exit.  

 

\---

 

Once safely on board, and flying away from the heretic station, Legion held out his hand to the commander and she grinned at him before clasping it and shaking it proudly, “Thank you, Shepard-Commander.”

“Don’t know if you should be thanking me just yet, Legion, but I hope you’re okay with the decision I made.” She said releasing his hand and walking down the corridor toward the CIC with Garrus on her other side.

“We could not reach a consensus. We recognized you had a unique perspective on our situation. Despite your organic nature, it was concluded your perspective could be the one thing we lacked. Regardless of the outcome, you will not hold blame.”

Curious, she clasped her hands behind her back as they came to stand before the elevator, “How so?”

“Heretic units chose their path.” He started as they stepped into the elevator and began to ride down, “Retribution was necessary. Enlistment was possible. Two options were possible. You selected one. You are not to blame for the origin of the problem.”

Garrus snorted, “Now he sounds like Krios.”

Not particularly comforted by Legion’s words, she sighed and nodded, choosing to remain silent as the doors slid open again and all three exited. Without another word Legion turned and walked back toward the AI core as Shepard sighed and glanced up at Garrus.

Tilting his head away from her slightly, he offered her a grin over his cheek bone and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her toward him in a side hug, dropping his chin to her head, “Don’t fixate on it.” He whispered calmly against her hair.

She grinned slightly, although he couldn’t see it as he lightly ran his nails against her back before asking quietly, “Tea?”

The miniscule grin on her face spread into a pleasant smile, “Yeah. That’d be great.” She said as she followed him toward the kitchen, “You going to have any?”

Glancing back at her as he reached up into a cabinet for a “normal mug” and an appropriately rimmed and trademarked “Turian Mug” to silently answer her question as both of them clanked lightly on the counter.

Shepard pulled a stool to her side of the prep island counter and rested her chin in one hand as she watched him set the kettle on the stove with enough water for both mugs. After starting the fire on the stove, he slowly turned around, planted his hands on the counter and leaned over to rest his mouth against her forehead as a kiss just as the lights in the ship dimmed for the night.

A calm smile spread over her face once again and she closed her eyes, offering a pleasant sigh.

When he stepped back, he gazed down pleasantly, observing her with veneration. With a quirk of a grin, she tilted her head quickly toward the Main Battery and asked, “So, have you missed your cot?”

Staring at her wide eyed and uttering a disbelieving laugh he quipped, “After the bed in that Cerberus facility? Yeah, I’ve been day dreaming about it for days.”

Shaking her head and grinning at him, she listened as the water began to simmer slightly and he stepped away from her again to pour the steaming water over their respective tea bags.

“Now, tell me.” He began without looking over at her, “Oh, great _tea connoisseur,_ I have an arrangement of leaves in a thin mesh bag here,” He motioned with a flourish at the bag swirling within his mug, “that I have researched, _via extranet_ , is fairly equivalent to the human “Earl Grey”.” He said turning around to place the kettle back on the stove, “Would you suggest adding dairy to my tea or no?” The question accompanied quiet scraping sounds over the counter as he grabbed the two honey jars from the far corner of the counter and brought them over to where she was seated.

“Absolutely!” She said grinning, “I mean… well, I don’t know what your equivalent of milk tastes like…”

He shrugged, “I’d assume about the same as yours. I’ll try it and if I hate it, then I can blame it all on you.” A wry grin shone in his eyes as he pulled out the serving spoon from the appropriately labelled glass honey pot and let the dextro-equivalent of honey run off the little silver spoon into his mug.

“You know… It’s strange.” He started, watching as the honey drifted in swirling suspended lines to the bottom of his glass, “Although our protein to sugar thing is the complete opposite chirality… We still have honey, we still have milk… We have a lot of pretty much the exact same things, they’re just… _opposite_ _DNA chirality_.” He finished with a conversational gesture with his free hand, before putting the spoon back in the glass container and closing the lid with a quiet ‘clink’.

“Not every world has those resources though.” Shepard said with a relaxed one-shouldered shrug.

“Sure, sure…” He agreed pleasantly, “Our trade routes have been well established for several millennia at this point though. I don’t remember the last time I heard of an entire planet being in shortage of something. Especially with the current galactic monetary system.”

“Currency is so weird…” Shepard said as he replaced the honey containers in their original locations and opened the fridge to pull out miniature bags of their respective milks.

“How so?” He questioned, cracking the cap on one and waiting to see how much she poured in hers before copying and re-securing the cap.

Gently stirring her tea to dissolve the honey a bit more thoroughly, she watched as the milk swirled within until the entire mixture became pleasantly homogenous, “It’s just an idea. Debt wouldn’t exist if everyone just suddenly decided, all at once, to no longer believe that credits had value. Isn’t it silly how mere _ideas_ can completely topple governments and throw whole countries into chaos.”

He sighed, walking around the counter to sit next to her, “I suppose in some aspects it seems a bit silly, yet… I guess, no one really knows what to do if things aren’t assigned a value, or at least a title. It’s like if we all of a sudden decided there was no need for names. Businesses had no names, people had no names… Mere ideas, throwing everything into chaos.” His hand raised in the air as if demonstrating some grand idea.

Leaning over, Shepard slumped against his arm, resting her head against his still armored shoulder. Offering a small chuckle, he grinned down at her, “You alright?”

“Tired.” She conveyed simply, watching the steam rise from her mug.

“Alright.” He purred quietly as he peacefully gazed down at her through his visor.

Rising away from him, she reached out to pick up her mug and take a sip, sighing happily as she swallowed, “Thanks for the tea.”

He nodded silently as he rested the elegantly formed pour spout on his mug rim against the bottom of his mouth and poured slowly.

Looking down at the mug after he’d swallowed, Shepard asked, “Do you like it with milk?”

An amused grin from him met her gaze, “Yes, I do.” He confirmed as he turned to look at her.

His brow furrowed somewhat as he observed her closely, “I meant to ask you about this a while ago, but I kept forgetting.” He started, “Your scars are already gone, so… two questions. One, what made them disappear without any scar tissue whatsoever, and two, why in the world did they glow?”

She snorted a laugh at his second question and shook her head, “To answer your first question, Dr. Chakwas sent me an email saying that with the cybernetic implants throughout my whole body, there was something of “mind over matter” associated with their rate of repair. The glowing… Honestly, my best guess is that my skin is actually somehow biological material and a fine mesh of nano-technology. I can’t imagine any other reason for it being able to repair so perfectly after every bullet wound, burn mark, etcetera.” Pausing momentarily, she took another sip of her tea, before saying with a subtle laugh, “You know… sometimes I wish I could keep all the scars I’ve gotten through all our fights.”

He grinned proudly, “Hah! I _knew_ you had a thing for scars.”

Amused, her mouth spread into a laughing smile before shaking her head, “I still have these moments where I question whether or not I’m even human anymore… These strange feelings of being… _unworthy_ of my existence.”

Leaning over and bumping his arm against her shoulder lightly, she looked up at him with a somewhat sad expression and he grinned at her, “Well, you know there’s still those little spots on your face and back. If you were _just_ nano technology I don’t think those would be there.”

“Spots?” She asked curiously, “Oh!” A chuckle interrupted her realization, “You mean freckles? It’s skin damage from solar radiation. I don’t know many people who don’t have them.”

“Exactly.” He said calmly, “and you know… being unworthy and such. You don’t _earn_ worth, Shepard. Monetarily, sure… but not as a sentient being.”

She nodded her head back and forth, “I don’t know about that.”

“Shepard.” His deep voice calmly steadying her thoughts, “Whether or not history ever remembers your name, all the people you’ve subtly impacted will… Politicians may only remember you because they _have_ to, but the day to day people… like that lady on Illium when you found her locket, that volus on Noveria who saw everyone die by enraged rachni babies, the rachni queen herself for that matter… that krogan captain who you impressed with your pyjack shooting skills, the krogan shaman who watched you slam your face into Uvenk. Those weren’t _big_ things, but you supported their individuality, their culture, their mental health… Those people won’t ever forget you, and you didn’t have to _earn_ that respect.” Lifting his mug to his mouth again he took two sips of tea before holding it between both hands, staring down at it thoughtfully.

“Thank you.” She said quietly before looking up at him with adoring appreciation.

Resting his mug on the counter, he leaned over to kiss her and she smiled, happily accepting before he sat upright again and grinned at her.

A comforting silence blanketed the space around them as they finished their tea. With silent appreciation of one another's presence, Garrus grinned at her and took her mug to rinse it out and place it in the sink. Reaching out toward her as he walked by the counter, she lightly caught his hand and slid off the stool to join him on his walk to the elevator. Happily, she anticipated the comforting cuddles that they would both soon fall asleep to after a warm shower.

 

"I am so glad I met you." Shepard said quietly as they waited on the elevator. 

Reaching up and holding her face fondly in one hand his gaze searched her face with admiration, "I know you are." He said now unable to control the grin. 

Shepard laughed aloud and lightly smacked him as his mouth opened widely in an enthusiastic shocked laugh. Calming his laughing, he managed to say happily, "I am too, Shepard."

A mischievous glint shone in her eye as she calmly replied with a tilt of her head in his direction, " _I know_." 


	35. 35. November, Garrus x Shepard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Sexual content.

 

[2185, Sol System month of “November”; Normandy SR-2]

 

 

A quiet hum of approval escaped Garrus’s nose. Training his gaze on her figure, he observed her with a proud smirk as Shepard brushed her teeth.

Glancing at him in the still somewhat foggy mirror, she returned his thoughtful hum with a silent smile of her own as he stepped up behind her and placed both hands on her naked ass before running them gently up her sides, hands coming to rest on her breasts, and chin dropping onto her shoulder. Chuckling amused, Shepard spit the toothpaste and saliva concoction _in_ her mouth _out_ , before cupping water in her hand and rinsing her mouth of the remaining paste, “You’ve warmed up to the view far more quickly than I expected.”

“ _Shepard_ ,” He purred quietly, placing his face next to hers and meeting her gaze in the mirror, “just because _you_ asked me _first_ , doesn’t mean I wasn’t already interested. You just gave me the incentive to admit it.”

“You could have asked first.” She said coyly, turning to grin up at him before lightly smacking the side of his ass and walking out of the bathroom.

“Technically…” He agreed with a disbelieving tone and a shrug as he followed her out of the room.

The left side of her face squinted at him as the right side elongated, raising one eyebrow, “What do you mean _technically_ , I had been flirting _nearly_ shamelessly with you for months aboard the SSV and then again when you re-joined.”

A mocking laugh escaped his nose, “Well, if holding casual conversations is your idea of _shamelessly_ flirting, Shepard…”

“I said _nearly_.” She retorted quickly, grinning up at him amused, “I guess there’s a lot of context that may have been initially missed. You've mentioned your skills at reading facial expressions have improved since then. So, I guess you deserve the benefit of the doubt… plus, you were so damn determined to be respectful and distant, the only times I could tell you appreciated the attention were small glances you’d give me and when you blatantly said ‘Thank you.’”

Walking closer to her, he reached out and lightly ran his hands down her arms, following the movement with his gaze for a moment before looking back up at her. In response, her eyes shifted over his face with tranquility in her expression as he spoke, “I have definitely gotten better… Wish I knew more back then.” He commented.

“Do you?” She asked with a smirk before she turned to crawl onto the bed.

“Why wouldn’t I?” He asked, clearly a bit confused, as he laid down next to her.

Electing to keep the dim lights in the room on for now, she grinned as she laid down facing him and curled one hand under her chin, “Well, wouldn’t the whole thing with Alenko and Liara have bothered you if you _did_ notice how I was attracted to you?”

A derisive snort escaped his nose, “Are you kidding? It bothered me _anyway_.”

“You were _jealous_?” She asked, clearly amused, her eyes squinting at him in a childish delight.

Warm-hearted chuckles escaped his chest, “I didn’t really analyze what I was feeling at the time, but yeah… I think to some extent I was a little jealous. On one hand,” He started, readjusting his position slightly, and pressing his head a bit more into the pillow, “I was annoyed with how freely Alenko flirted with you while simultaneously _constantly_ preaching about the importance of rank, and calling you ma’am while _blatantly_ trying to earn your affections. At least Liara just called you _Shepard_ like a normal person.”

A snorted chuckle escaped Shepard’s nose, “I have to be honest, that bugged me too.”

Pausing a moment, he yawned forcefully, lifting his head off the pillow to direct most of it away from her face before laying back down and continuing, “So, I’m assuming your preferences are something like ‘Shepard’ from ground crew and ‘Commander’ or ‘ma’am’ from ship crew?”

Nodding thoughtfully she shrugged with one shoulder, “Seems to be the case. I always cringe when Chambers says ‘Shepard’, not sure if it’s _her_ or what…”

Garrus inhaled deeply before leaning forward to kiss her forehead. Neither of them wanted to discuss Kelly Chambers, The Illusive Man, or anything about Cerberus in general. The way he’d gently cut off the conversation, made her grin. It felt safe. She knew they were on the same page even if he didn't say anything. Scooting closer to him, she rested her forehead against his chest and offered a small happy purr as he wrapped an arm around her, laying his hand gently on her back.

Kissing his chest lightly, she felt him tilt his head down, resting his chin near the top of her head as she was situated a bit too low to let him lay it against her.

“Do turians have vocal cords?” Shepard asked quietly.

He offered a deep chuckle and replied, “ _Yes_ , we do.”

“Yet you also have a _syrinx_?” She pondered aloud.

“Correct. If we didn’t have vocal cords, it would probably be impossible to say my name.” He confirmed, closing his eyes and grinning pleasantly, preparing for her inevitable barrage of questions, “What do you know about how a syrinx works?” He questioned in return, comfortably running his fingers lightly over her back.

Taking a deep breath, she pondered his question, attempting to mentally organize what she knew, “Well, starting with the basics, the syrinx isn’t as muscular in structure like the larynx. It’s mostly soft tissues supported by striations of cartilage. The openings for either chamber of the syrinx are controlled by little muscle groups that relax or constrict while air passes through. I recall it’s far more efficient than is _just_ a larynx." Pausing momentarily, she attempted to recall the specific statistics, "I mean, a larynx alone is only capable of using about 2% of the air that passes through it, whereas the syrinx is capable of something more like... 97%. I think.” She pulled her head back slightly and gazed up at him wondering if he had any of his own input to offer.

While he listened, his gaze absent mindedly followed his hand as he trailed his fingers lightly across her skin in abstract paths, and he encouraged quietly, “Keep going.” Glancing at her with a small smile, he wondered if she had any idea how much he adored listening to her think aloud.

Inhaling slowly, she sighed thoughtfully and continued, “ _Well_ , the syrinx I’m describing is the highly specialized one in songbirds back on Earth. Larger birds like buzzards don’t have one at all. If I had to make an educated guess, the difference between screeching sounds like an eagle and the complex sounds of a songbird would be the number of muscles attached to the syrinx. Creatures with _more_ musclesassociated, can most likely produce more complex sounds. I would also assume that with the sheer _size_ of the syrinx your species has, it would be far more capable of making lower pitched sounds than that of a tiny songbird. The structure and the muscles associated to the syrinx for you would _have_ to be much larger and thicker…”

Listening pleasantly, he silently notated with amusement how her skin would contract when the nerves on the surface were touched just lightly enough, “So, what kind of syrinx do you suppose we have? One like eagles or songbirds?” He asked, using her provided examples.

“I don’t know. Part of me wants to say like eagle, but _only_ because eagles are some of the larger birds we have. If I were to move away from _that_ singular train of thought…” She started, watching, while thinking, as his hand trailed down her arm onto her hand before making its way back to her shoulder, “You have the ability to communicate in a complex grammatic and well-structired _language_. As you mentioned earlier, your _name_ … since it starts with a difficult sound if you _didn’t_ have a larynx or vocal cords of any kind, would lead me to hypothesize you have a more complex syrinx like a songbird. Without ever having heard your native language, I can assume there would be need for higher muscular intonations via the _syrinx_ , which could then contribute to the production of words via the _vocal cords_ , tongue, and sinuses… that is I’m assuming most of your words don’t use your _lips_ to form them nearly as much as what you’ve got _inside_ of you.”

“Your hypothesis sounds well founded.” He said with a grin in his eyes as he returned his gaze to her own, “I know the _basics_ of how it all works, and for the most part, I’m pretty sure your prediction is mostly correct. So, I don’t know if your various countries are capable of this in quite the same way we are, but a lot of our words can actually change meaning with different tonal fluctuations.”

Shepard nodded, “We have several languages that work on that principle. It’s always fascinated me how our translators manage to get it all right, especially in crowded areas.”

Shaking his head he offered a huffed laugh, “Software development from programmers, _plural_ , who are also much more talented and well-funded than myself.”

Grinning amused, she paused, tilting her head upwards in thought, gazing away from him momentarily before looking at him again, “Alright, this might sound like a strange question, but when you speak, does it sound like more than one voice _or_ tone is being produced at once?” She asked, eyes bright with a radiant curiosity.

“It does, yes.” He confirmed as a _whole_ rather than either individual possiblity, grinning at her in adoration, “I’m assuming you’re asking because you’re only capable of making one note at a time as you speak?”

She nodded and he tilted his head reaching over to the bedside table to grab his omni-tool, and deactivate his translator. When it deactivated, he heard a very slight ringing in his ears as he looked over at her expectantly.

When she began speaking, his brow furrowed and something between confusion and a highly amused expression settled on his face. For some reason she stopped speaking and Garrus grinned, dipping his head, staring intently at the mattress, motioning with his hand in a circular motion for her to continue speaking. He wanted to listen to the strange… smooth tone of her voice. He was so accustomed to hearing her speak in his native language, listening to the raw unaltered input was fascinating. There weren’t nearly as many inflections in her voice as he’d expected, but the most striking part he’d never realized until listening then was how _obvious_ it was her species spoke so many syllables with their _lips_.

Looking back up at her, he found himself watching her eyes and mouth as she spoke, wondering how the sounds produced by air passing between her lips alone could be interpreted as words more than mere noises. Sharper noises accompanied her words not through higher pitched intonations from her throat, but through her _teeth_. His mouth hung partially open, his eyes squinted in amusement as he listened. While it was certainly fascinating as the first time he’d ever bothered to try this particular experiment, he was also amazed by how _smooth_ her voice was. There weren’t rapid fluctuations in tone for her words or multiple sounds offered up at once, but to an untrained ear, every one of her words sounded like they were running together. Most of the time he couldn’t discern whether several syllables meant one word, or several… or possibly an entire sentence. Sure, her voice held purposeful inflections, but as she didn’t have a syrinx, he attempted to comprehend the relatively consistently toned speech.

It was all extremely confusing, a bit overwhelmingly _fast_ , but he couldn’t deny there was something calming about it… A definitiveness to her dialogue. While he was unable to comprehend the words themselves, he attempted to find some part of it he _could_ understand, and the mere _sound_ alone, he could attribute to… locations, settings, atmospheres. To visualize her speech might be like watching a little creature stroll with purpose through an open field. There was a strange kind of hypothetical _depth_ to it, but it wasn’t in the _fluctuation_ of tone, rather, the _consistency_ of it. Accompanying the visual he randomly thought of, his mind also imagined a solitary, large, stringed instrument with a skilled player behind it, attempting, with uncanny accuracy, to play the part of an entire stringed section of an orchestra on _one_ instrument.

Looking back up at her with a grin, he genuinely appreciated hearing her _real_ voice for the first time, but he already missed being able to actually _understand_ her. With an amused grin, he brought his omni-tool back up and reactivated his translator, sighing pleasantly as she asked, “How was it?”

“An experience…” A huffed laugh escaped his mouth and he shook his head, “I’ve never tried that before." Pausing for a moment, he contemplated how to summarize the experience, "It’s overwhelming at first. Since I’m unfamiliar with your language, it all seems like jumbled noises, but I’m sure that’s true for anyone listening to a fluent speaker in another language.” Pausing briefly, he grinned, “Alright… your turn.” He said bringing up _her_ omni-tool and turning off her translator.

 

-

 

Of course she was curious, but when he lifted her omni-tool from the bedside table and deactivated her own translator, she somehow found herself drastically underprepared for what she heard.

The translator was never able to fully filter out the fluctuations in turian voices, so there was always a kind of secondary cadence to it, but with the translator _completely_ off. Her eyes widened as she stared at him. She couldn’t understand a single phrase, but it was… beautiful.

He said her name and her eyes absolutely lit up in excitement, her mouth opening in amazed awe, before closing in an elated smile, biting on one side of her bottom lip as he continued speaking, and dropping her head, listening intently. He hadn’t been kidding when he said it was slightly overwhelming. At the start it had been equivalent of attempting to hear someone over the rush of a waterfall, but as she listened more intently, the waterfall calmed into almost a babbling brook. His voice didn’t sound like _water_ exactly, but the way water could make different sounds as it ran over rocks and crevices… higher pitched drips accompanied simultaneously by a deep rumble and hushed murmers at the back of the throat. Assuming he _was **speaking**_ instead of just trolling her with random sounds while she was completely vulnerable and unable to understand his teasing, she listened with an enraptured and allured expression. Sounds, which she could only assume _were_ words, emitted from him like a men’s choir all piled into one building, or in this case, person.

The way he’d explained it earlier made it sound like each word had several different tones associated with it and depending on how one tone was emitted, the whole word could change… but now, attempting to listen to it… he hadn't offered quite the right description. It wasn’t just a slight shift in tone, it sounded as if an entirely different voice could accompany the word as it was spoken, like his voice wasn’t _just_ his.

He was speaking quickly, far too quickly for her to really appreciate how it might sound in a slower, more organized fashion… namely if he’d been singing in an actual choir, but regardless. She had to admit she’d been expecting some kind of clicks or screeches simply _because_ of his species lack of use for lips to form words and the general presence of a syrinx… but she’d been completely wrong. The muscles in their throat formed more of their words than she’d realized, but the fine-tuning of certain sounds, like the end of his own name and the beginning of hers, were… from what she could discern, still formed similar to her own, but more _tonal_ than structural... and honestly she couldn't think of any better way to try and describe that.

When he was finished giving her a demonstration, he reactivated her translator and she hummed pleasantly, “I didn’t realize how much of your voice the translator filtered out so I could understand it.”

Yawning again, covering the front of his mouth pointlessly, although courteously, with a fist, he finished his yawn by asking, “How so?” As he laid down again.

She laid down as well, but her mind was now far too active to feel tired at all, “My translator seems to filter out a lot of the tonal _depth_ to your voice. All I can hear is a subtle cadence in your words, a kind of _rumble_ as you speak in harmony with your voice, but the translator seems to sift several of the other inflections from it.” Grinning happily at him she commented, “I suppose I’ve always wanted to tell you that the cadence my translator _does_ keep was always a rather attractive quality to your voice, but… well obviously I loved to hear your natural voice too. There was-” She faltered, uncertain how to say this more elegantly, “-more to it.” Inevitably failing to find the right words for how she _felt_. 

Scooting closer, and partially leaning over her, he deepened the tone of his voice purposefully, “Are you saying my voice is _enticing_ , Shepard?”

Gazing up at him with a suggestive grin, she kissed him lightly, “I’ve always loved it, but hearing it without the translator was definitely sexy.”

He laughed and she found herself unable to resist joining him as he rolled slightly and situated himself above her, resting his forearms under her shoulders, “Well, pretty soon… you may get to hear me swear,” Gently, he moved his thumbs up over her throat and ever so lightly applied pressure, “and moan,” He continued as he teased her, releasing an aroused sounding huff against her cheek, “and growl in your ear,”

She swallowed and he felt as her pulse rate continue to rise, accompanied by her attempt to maintain her breathing as she forcefully exhaled, air lightly caressing the side of his face.

Deliberately, he suddenly ceased all motion and made her focus on the only eye of his she could see before he moved his thumbs from her throat and gripped the sheets above her head, “ _without_ a translator on.”

Shepard wrapped her arms around his torso and pulled him down onto her, his unsheathed dick hitting and pushing partly into her. His eyes closed momentarily and his jaw flexed as she brought her mouth nearly against his own, scanning his eyes as she whispered, “I can’t take this teasing for must longer, Vakarian…”

Moving his hips slightly, she responded in kind, pressing more firmly against him and his breath escaped him momentarily before he succeeded in retorting, “ _Teasing_? I would… _never_ …” He managed.

Her mouth opened in a pant and she stared down as she moved her hips while his moved in kind and he slid all the way into her as the back of her head slowly pressed into the pillow beneath her and she stared up at him in awe and offered a hushed, “ _Fuck.               Me._ ”

Pulling his hips back again, he began to slide out of her and both of them groaned forcefully, “God-damn, Shepard.” He whispered before exhaling forcefully as he slowly pushed forward again.

 

 

 **_Everything_ ** _. Is. So. Soft._

 

 

Shepard reached up to hook her hands under his shoulders, her touch gentle but secure, almost _reverent_ as she tilted her head to the side, resting her cheek against his own and sighed. She closed her eyes, swallowing forcefully before kissing his cheek in adoration. He remained there, almost paralyzed, somewhat hesitant to move again.

 

 

_Focus._

**_How?_ ** _She feels so damn good. How can I-_

 

A quiet hum of euphoria rumbled from within his chest and he turned his head toward her to lightly nibble on her chin. The small sound broke his momentary reverie as he moved his hips back again. Carefully, attempting to curb his body’s enthusiasm, he _gradually_ increased his speed, every once in a while ramming solidly into her, watching her breasts jolt as a response. Now panting slightly, his eyes roamed freely over her, observing her with unabashed adulation, fixating every once in a while on her hands as they dug into the mattress or clawed at the headboard, her lips as they seemed incapable of staying still regardless of whether or not they were forming words, and her head as it tilted back with a grimace, quickly followed by a long winded happy moan or laugh of amazement.

He huffed a laugh, and she looked up at him with smiling eyes and asked quietly, “What?”

Shaking his head, he pulled completely out of her as he said, “You’re just… so god damn attractive.” As he forcefully rammed all the way into her and she cried out in response, reaching out to claw at him while her lower back contracted and the top of her head pressed into the pillow, her breath catching as she inhaled again.

Hooking one hand under her back, he pulled out of her and quickly repositioned them both so her head was hanging off the side of the bed. Grasping one of her wrists to restrain her from sliding off the edge, he held one of her thighs against his side, raising her hips as he greatly increased his pace while attempting to minimize friction between the soft skin of her inner thighs against his torso, and she immediately grasped toward him with her free hand and sank her nails into his arm as gasps and huffs escaped her mouth, completely incapable of raising her head to look at him.

“Ohhhh, my god, don’t stop. I don’t care if you come first, just _don’t stop_.” She instructed breathlessly. The hand he’d been holding on to now had a firm grip on the sheets, and her free hand was rubbing against her clit. With her in control of her own situation, he shifted both of his hands to support her hips as she loosened her legs’ grip around his waist.

Panic struck the back of his mind as his core muscles spasmed.

 

 

_She said not to stop, but **fuck** … Try to just-_

 

His jaw clenched and he panted primarily through his nose. Brow furrowed he growled forcefully before his jaw went slack again and he began to gasp slightly. Suddenly, she cried out and convulsed around him, her hips raising a bit higher, pressing harder against him, shifting the angle ever so slightly… and breath left him completely, an almost shocked gasp escaping his chest as he pressed against her, head hanging forward as he panted.

As if all muscle tension in his body flowed out all at once, they both remained where they were, panting, muscles still spastically tightening, causing one another to moan and laugh. Shepard grasped the sheets a bit more tightly with both hands and he feebly attempted to help her pivot, so her head rested on the mattress again.

With a groan, he took a deep breath, tilted his head back for a moment, attempting to catch his breath and sighed forcefully. Once he had full control of his breathing again, he carefully leaned over toward the bedside table closest to them, selected one of the several cloths he’d stored away, and placed it beneath her. He closed his eyes momentarily and inhaled slowly before his stomach muscles tightened involuntarily again and he exhaled in a quiet moan as he pulled out of her. Sighing happily, he dutifully cleaned her off with the soft fabric as his fluids slowly flowed out of her. Slowly, he let his gaze rise to meet her own and found her to be smiling reverently at him.

“Good?” He asked with a mischievous grin to which she replied exactly as he expected.

“Must be one of the _dumbest_ questions you’ve ever asked.” She retorted, throwing his own words back at him, pausing briefly, she watched as he tossed the cloth into the waste bin before crawling toward the other bedside table and opening the drawer with the several ointments in it.

Selecting the highest viscosity mixture, he shook a decent amount onto one hand before setting the bottle on the bed next to him, “This might sting a bit tomorrow.” He said looking up at her with a bit of a forlorn expression.

A greatly amused laugh escaped her chest as she grinned at him, “ _Absolutely_ worth it.”

She watched as he grinned at her before returning his gaze to her legs, dabbing some of the concoction onto his fingers and, with a feather-touch, spreading it onto her skin, “Might be a better idea to find positions that will reduce the likelihood of… _this_.” He commented with a grin up at her, “Luckily for you, I have _so many ideas_ on how to make that work.”

“Mm… Care to enlighten me?” She retorted, now genuinely quite thankful for the cooling agent within the ointment he was carefully applying.

“ _Tomorrow_.” He challenged, gaze boring into her with an incredible intensity.

She offered a purring sound and a hum of approval, “ _Yes_ please.”

Twisting the cap of the bottle back on, he crawled over her to set it down on the closest table with a light ‘tack’ sound against the glass surface. Sighing, he lightly sat on his heels over her, before bending forward and laying his head on her chest. Shepard yawned slightly as he rested against her, running the tips of her fingers lovingly over his neck.

“I got lucky with that timing.” She said quietly.

Groggily he asked, “Hm-What timing?”

“Finishing just before you did. It normally takes me absolutely _forever_.” Her tone was slightly annoyed, but he replied with a twinge of amusement.

“I read somewhere it’s normal to take a really long time for human women. I’ll always be pleasantly surprised when you finish during sex.”

Her eyebrows raised, but he couldn’t see her face at the moment, “You’ll _always_ be pleasantly surprised? So, you _do_ want to keep me.” She quipped.

A pleasant purr emitted from his throat as he lifted his head to look at her, supporting most of his weight off of her chest with his forearms, “Assuming we survive tomorrow, and the next several years… then... _yeah. Definitely."_  

She grinned, leaning up to kiss him, and sighing happily. When she pulled away, he rolled off of her and dragged the sheets over them both as they situated to sleep. A moment later she smiled, chuckling slightly, as he began turning off all the lights in the room.

“Hm?” He questioned simply in response to her chuckle.

“How exactly did we go from talking about the anatomy of your larynx and syrinx, to discussing how different our voices sound without a translator, to _sex_?” She pondered aloud, quite amused at the transition in subject matter.

“Well, I was already pretty interested in having sex _before_ we even took a shower, then you started asking all these nerdy questions, explaining your hypotheses, and listening  _so amazed_ to my natural voice.” He paused, grinning at her in the dim light of the fish tanks. Slowly, he began explaining as he laid down next to her, laying an arm comfortably over her torso, “Sexy… to smart… to cute… to sexy _again_." Accompanying each pause with a small kiss trailing up her neck until he finished his sentence next to her ear. Pulling back slightly he grinned, laying down in a more comfortable position, "It’s all full circle, Shepard. Inescapable. Compounding. Irresistible.” He finished explaining with a contented sigh before yawning.

A moment later, a small chuckle escaped his chest and he snuggled closer to her and nuzzled his face into her mostly dry hair, “And god _damn_ do you feel _incredible_.” He whispered against the top of her head.

“Mmm.” She agreed quietly, “Accurate.”

“Much different than a human?” He asked, genuinely curious.

Offering a light shrug, she yawned and attempted to analyze how different it might be, “Your ejaculate isn’t nearly as… slippery and sticky as a humans, which I really appreciate.”

A huff of a laugh escaped his nose, “Slippery _and_ sticky?” His voice was quiet, somewhat graveled, clearly becoming more and more comfortable and tired.

“I know.” She started, “It doesn’t sound possible, but apparently it is. Other than that, I might need to try it a few more times to really identify what makes it noticeably different.”

Hugging her closer to him again, he hummed pleasantly, “I can _definitely_  provide those opportunities for you.” He said now sounding half asleep.

A small hum of contentedness escaped her chest as she moved her pillow slightly closer to his to support her face as he hugged her close to him, “Good night, Garrus.”

His throat managed to offer a small sigh, and his thumb gently ran across her back twice to let her know he heard her before he completely drifted into sleep.


	36. 36. November, Tali, Mordin

 

[2185, Sol System month of “November”; Normandy SR-2]

 

 

“Hey there.” Garrus greeted calmly, turning his attention from his tablet to Shepard's sleep-disheveled form as she laid beside him.

“mm-Hey.” She replied groggily. Inhaling deeply, she brought her free hand up toward her head, draping it lazily over her face, “What time is it?” She asked, voice partially muffled by her hand.

Laying the tablet on the bedside table closest to him, he turned and laid down again, facing her, “Nearly seven.” He commented quietly.

Peeking out from under her hand at him, she moved her hand from her face to his own with a grin, “Today is going to be a very long day... even if most of it will be in prep and execution of a flight path.” She commented with a sigh.

Calmly, he shrugged, “You know, I’m willing to bet it will fly by and we'll come out on the other side of this with something to look forward to.” He stated with a grin as he shifted the covers and pulled her shoulder lightly.

Obliging to his silent request, she crawled on top of him and laid her chin on his chest, “Was that 'fly by' comment a _pun_?” She queried with a quirk of a grin.

His brow furrowed slightly as he considered this before a pitying huff of laugh escaped his nose, “ _I guess,_ but that's a bit of a stretch, Shepard.”

 

 

“Hey, Commander?”

 

Shepard unintentionally let out a loud groan, and she heard a snort from Joker, “Am I… interrupting something?” He asked, clearly clueless.

To which Garrus promptly replied in place of Shepard, “You could say that.”

“Hah… **_Oh_** uh- _okay_ , yeah, that was not a mental image I was prepared for this morning…”

Garrus and Shepard gazed at one another with amused expressions before Shepard asked, “What did you need, Joker?”

“Yeah, well –uh, Tali just went down to have a “chat” with Legion. You might want to head down to the AI core… like _ASAP_.”

“I’m on it, Joker. Thanks for the heads up.” She replied already rolling to let her feet hit the floor. Grabbing a uniform out of her closet, she and Garrus dressed in unison.

“Want any back up?” He asked, with a part solemn, part amused tone.

“Don’t think I’ll need it. Legion isn’t going to attack, but Tali might. I’m going to try and talk them through whatever’s going on.” She conveyed absentmindedly as she ran a brush once over the top of her head and tossed it on the bed on her way out of the room.

Their personalities had shifted rather quickly. Without trying, they’d both gone from quiet and comfortable, small smiles, and gentle touches, _instantly_ to heavy foot falls, resolute expressions, and an intense problem solving train of thought, shifting their facial expressions to something harder and colder. If they were simply riding down to the Crew Deck for breakfast, Garrus may have wrapped his arms around her as they waited on the elevator, tapped her ass on the way out, and watched her fondly as she stepped out ahead of him. Now, he stood quietly beside her, the two gazing either at the doors or the ground of the metal box, ready to work through whatever was on the other side of the doors with focused poignancy.

As Shepard made her way to the med bay, he simply placed a hand lightly on her back as a polite gesture of good luck, and exchanged a reassuring glance with her before promptly making his way toward the Main Battery.

 

 

“Shepard, I’m glad you’re here. I caught _Legion_ scanning my omni-tool. It was going to send data about the flotilla back to the geth!”

Tali stood with pistol extended, aimed straight at Legion’s head, while the geth stood unarmed, his faceplates rising and falling in quick succession, either in a display of nervousness, or of contemplation.

Shepard then watched and listened with amazement to Legion’s reaction. There hadn’t been a specific inquiry, the comment hadn’t even been directed _toward_ Legion, and yet the geth accurately assessed the situation and proceeded to _defend_ himself.

“Creators performed weapons tests and were discussing plans to attack us. We believed it necessary to warn our people.”

 

 

_He feels threatened. Personally threatened._

 

 

Shepard pondered what Legion had said momentarily. The logic behind Legion’s actions made perfect sense, it was the fact that he had seen the need to defend himself when there had been no direct comment made to him. In the past when Shepard had tried to ask him questions he’d prompted, “Topic?” or something of the like, but here… he understood the _context_ … The quarians had created AIs who could understand the _context_ of a scenario! More than _just_ the raw input of the scenario itself. Absolutely incredible.

“We already made the geth stronger by rewriting the ones that worshipped the reapers! I won’t let Legion endanger the Fleet by giving them more information!” Tali argued, looking away from her pistol at Shepard. With her focus on Shepard, Legion, at any moment could take that pistol from her hand and turn it on her, but he stood with his hands at his sides, calmly contributing to the conversation.

“Creator Tali-Zorah acts out of loyalty to her people. She was willing to be exiled to protect them… We must _also_ protect _our_ people from the Creator threat.”

Tali had looked at Legion while he spoke, but once again turned her attention to Shepard, “You _can’t_ let this happen, Shepard. I _trusted_ you, and I worked with a _geth_ on the team, but this is _too much_!”

She completely understood Tali’s point, but in her fear of Legion, she’d _understandably_ forgotten to take a step back and think about the scenario from his point of view, “Tali, your father was running brutal experiments. If the subjects had been human, I’d damn well be telling the Alliance about it.”

“I know,” A stressed huff of a sigh escaped her mouth, “but if the _geth_ found _out_?”

“They’d attack.” Shepard stated definitively, “Which would cause a war that would leave both the geth _and_ the quarians vulnerable when the reapers show up.” Pausing momentarily, she turned her attention to Legion as he’d created the root of this problem, “Is that what you want, Legion?”

“We believed it necessary to relay the information.”

Shepard grunted frustrated at the scenario and crossed her arms, “Sooner or later, you’re _both_ going to have to _stop_ fighting this war, or we’ll _all_ end up paying for it.”

Tali slowly dropped her pistol to her side and looked over at Legion with a forlorn expression.

Legion looked from Shepard to Tali, to Shepard, and back to Tali again before dipping his head and stating quietly, “To facilitate unit cohesion, we will not transmit data regarding Creator plans.”

Clearly much calmer now, Tali sighed and rested her pistol against its clamp on her leg, “Thank you, Legion… I… _understand_ your intentions and to some extent sympathize with your motivations. What if… What if I gave you some non-classified data to send to the geth instead?”

Legion’s face plates rose momentarily before he motioned toward her with an open hand, “We would be grateful.”

 

\--- ---

[Interview; Subject: Garrus Vakarian; late year 2189 CE, 3 years post Reaper Destruction.]

 

 

“Was it ever difficult for you and the commander to,” I held my fingers up and surrounded the next statement in air quotes as I spoke, “ _leave work out of the home life_ , so to speak?”

He snorted a laugh, “Well… I suppose I don’t really understand your question. We met one another through our work, we lived around one another while we worked, we spent nearly every moment _of that work_ together…”

Thinking momentarily, I attempted to re-word my question, “When it came to you two being alone with one another, did you have to make a purposeful effort to unwind or did it happen naturally?”

Looking up to the side and tilting his head back and forth for a moment, he returned his gaze to me and stated simply, “Really depended on the situation.” While he fell silent transitorily, I also remained silent, hoping he would elaborate without any prompting.

He inhaled deeply, still thinking about my provoking question and inevitably found more to say about the topic, “The shift in personalities were often pretty drastic.” A genuine quiet chuckle escaped his chest as he clasped his hands before him and glanced down at them slightly before meeting my gaze again, “Mid battle flirting was usually reserved, little jokes passed between us, small glances. Alone, flirting was, _understandably_ , far more crass.”

A quirk of a grin curled the corner of my mouth, “Alright, then, forgive me for asking this, but by _crass_ do you mean things often got a little wild in the bedroom?”

Chuckling, his eyes crinkled slightly and he shook his head, “Not really, no. We were both… _adventurous_ , but if you’re asking about breathlessly slamming one another into the walls, throwing clothes all over the place, and breaking lamps, then no.”

Pausing momentarily, he thought about what he’d just said, “I think it’ll be good for whomever listens to these recordings to realize Shepard and I were well trained soldiers, but other than that we were pretty normal people…” He motioned toward his head with one hand before clasping them once more, “People get these strange ideas in their heads that “famous” people have some kind of amazing life that should be envied. Like _surely_ Shepard and I had this _exotic_ life, or how our relationship was always this flawlessly romantic dreamscape.” Jokingly he pointed towards himself with both hands, “Well, I mean, _clearly,_ I was always _flawlessly romantic_.”

Snorting, amused at his own lie, he shook his head, “Shepard and I had a very strange relationship, especially in the first few months after our attack on the Collectors when we were unintentionally forced into a long-distance and uncertain-timing relationship-kind-of-thing. Shepard had to deal with the legal actions of her destruction on the Alpha relay, and I had to settle some things with my family.”

Thoughtfully he looked above my head once again, squinting slightly, “During those few months, we didn’t have much contact with one another.”

The shocked and then clearly confused expression on my face must have prompted his explanation, “Well, first off, not every ship or _planet_ for that matter has public access to FTL comm channels or the equivalent. If she had still been flying the Normandy, reaching her would have been much easier, but she was on Earth and I had to ship off to Palaven, so we split ways, hoping we’d be able to reach one another again someday.”

I tilted my head curiously, “What was it like splitting ways, unsure if you’d be able to speak again soon?”

He huffed a quiet laugh, “Strange. Surprisingly strange.”

 

 

\--- ---

[2185, Sol System month of “November”; Normandy SR-2]

 

 

“I’m proud of you, Tali.”

Her quarian friend exhaled forcefully and dipped her head as they sat adjacent to one another in her cabin, “… Thanks, Shepard.”

Shepard placed the tablet in her hand on the table, “I know having Legion aboard hasn’t been easy.”

A despondent huff of a laugh escaped Tali’s nose, “Maybe not, but it won’t matter much if we all die today.”

Regardless of how Shepard had thought the _exact_ same thing so many times, hearing her friend say something so hopeless irked her, “Hey, deaths are going to be kept at a minimal to nil, and that’s a ship-wide order.” She said pointing around the room, eyebrows raised authoritatively as she looked back at her friend’s mask.

Tali leaned back, resting the back of her head against the top of the couch, “Why does it feel like _every_ war possible is simmering… The quarians and the geth, the krogans and the salarians, the humans and the collectors, _everyone_ and the reapers, the humans and the _batarians_ …” Pausing momentarily she offered a disbelieving laugh, “Are the turians at war? Everyone else seems like they’re going to be.”

“The turians are currently in a bit of a civil war.” Shepard responded quietly, leaning over to pick up her glass of club soda.

“Really?” Tali asked, sounding more than a little surprised, “What happened?”

Wincing slightly at the light burn of her drink, Shepard rested the glass on the couch beside her and motioned with one hand conversationally, “Terrorist attack on a capital city apparently. Crashed a huge ship at near FTL straight into the middle of it.”

Shaking her head, Tali gestured despondently into the air with both hands, “What’s next, Shepard? Let’s say we make it out of this. Then what?”

Leaning forward and setting her glass once more on the coffee table, Shepard’s leg began to bounce anxiously as she leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees, and clasped her hands, “The Reapers.” She said quietly, chewing the inside of her cheek in deep thought.

“It keeps getting worse.” Tali said sitting up again and leaning forward, honestly wanting to address the issues at hand, “What do we do when we _know_ things are getting worse, but we’re powerless to fix them?” She asked, crossing her arms in discomfort over her torso.

“Are you asking what advice I’d give a general citizen, or what advice I’d give my crew?” Shepard asked, staring pointedly across the room, unwilling to meet Tali’s eye, and unable to allocate any of her thought processes at the moment to reading her body language.

With a shrug, she said quietly, “Both?”

Shepard offered a huff of a laugh, “You know, I think part of my job is to undermine the Council. The Council wants everyone to think everything’s fine so there isn’t a panic… but that means no one gets to prepare for when shit really hits the fan. So, since I’m _not_ the Council, I’d update the general public. Those who chose to ignore it, will do so regardless of who says what. Those who have been paying attention, watching, researching… and the conspiracy theorists I guess… might actually listen. From there, that’s the end of my duty. I will warn, but I can’t prepare every planet, every nation, every tribe.” She shook her head, staring blankly at the table, “Besides that, I then focus on what I _can_ directly influence, id est, myself, my crew, and a select few beyond that. I’d want to bring them with me, make sure we were all on the same page, or at least had comparable information.”

“So…” Tali started, “What if when we return to the Citadel they impound the Normandy and we’re all forced elsewhere while you deal with the batarian issue?”

A frustrated sigh escaped Shepard’s nose, “In that case, I’d tell you to do your research, educate yourself while you’re away from the Normandy, keep yourself in-the-know. Prepare yourself and a select few with an action plan, and besides that… do your best to live for the benefit of those around you. Serve others who need help. If possible, take a step up in leadership and, by default, bring even more people away from a fight _alive_ with you. Accept challenges, work with failures, and find a few people you can really feel at home with.”

Tali tilted her head, “Okay, so… I’m asking this because I’m not sure if my translator worded this properly, not just because I’m a quarian born and raised on the Flotilla… Ah-What do you mean by “feel at home with”?”

Taking a deeper breath, Shepard pondered her question, “There are some people you don’t _want_ to trust, but you know that somehow they’ll be reliable when it counts. Then there’s others that you could tell anything and they will challenge you, maybe even question your authority, yet no matter what, they’d always have your back.” She paused a moment before continuing, “The people you “feel at home with” are those with whom… you could be in the middle of a _storm_ , but take one step toward them and you finally feel _peace_. It doesn’t have to be through a romantic kind of love. Sometimes it’s just someone who manages to psychologically support you in a way no one else can. Someone intuitive to how _you_ work… that you can glance at and know in an instant, they can reliably guess what you’re about to do, and who are quick-thinking enough to work with and for you in a personal or circumstantial crisis.” One more thought made its way through her mouth without much forethought, but thankfully so far in this conversation… that had worked out pretty well for her, “No matter what you face, do your best to be quiet sometimes and _watch_. If you find yourself in a leadership role, if you’re always _doing_ and _saying_ and _hunting_ , but you’re never _watching_ , you’re missing something crucial in your ability to lead.”

“Are you saying all of this to _me_ specifically or to the crew in general?” Tali asked, tilting her head slightly, as she picked lightly at a loose thread on one side of her suit.

“To you specifically.” Shepard said turning to look at her directly now, “but I’d say something similar to the rest of the crew.”

Tali shook her head slowly, looking downwards before her purple mask re-oriented toward Shepard, “I don’t know if I’d be ready for some kind of leadership role like that.”

Shepard huffed a laugh, “I say the same thing about myself nearly every day… and _then I do it_. I lay down at night and curl the sheets over my shoulder and ball them up under my chin, purposefully trying to slow my heart rate and switch my focus away from all the times we could have died but didn’t.” A slow silent inhale opened Shepard’s mouth slightly before she exhaled forcefully, “You’re never _ready_ to be a leader when there’s a war on, Tali. You just _do it_ to the best of your ability and try to find someone to support you through it. If you’re helping everyone else and no one’s helping you, you’re going to burn out and miss a lot of details that could have helped _you_ help _others_ along the way.”

Nodding thoughtfully, Tali remained silent for several seconds before offering a small sigh, “Thanks for getting us this far, Shepard.” She stated quietly as she stood from her seat.

“It’s been my pleasure, Tali.” Shepard said rising to stand before her, “I got damn lucky with you joining the crew. I’m glad you came back. Despite it being Cerberus property.”

“Not for long, Shepard… Not for long.” Tali conveyed with a proud tone in her voice before she nodded respectfully and turned to leave.  

 

\---

 

Stepping into the lab, Shepard’s eyebrows raised in surprise to see Mordin standing with his arms crossed, looking out the window, standing perfectly still… He wasn’t working on a project. Maybe he was waiting on one?

“Shepard.” Mordin greeted with a calm happiness as he turned his head toward her slightly in acknowledgement, “Glad you stopped by.”

Smiling pleasantly, Shepard stepped behind the work bench and stood next to him, also crossing her arms, “Thank you for all your work, Mordin, and your general guidance, and your friendship. It’s been an honor to serve with you.”

Mordin turned his head once more to look down at her and grinned at her fondly, watching her silently for a moment before turning to look back out the window, “It’s been a pleasure, Shepard. Somewhat surprised you managed to pull me away from clinic on Omega, but… parameters different. Clearly, more imperative. Glad to be a part of it.”

The two stood silently with one another for a few seconds, gazing thoughtfully out the window into glittering darkness. A part of Shepard couldn’t help but feel like standing next to Mordin was simultaneously one of the most dangerous places on the ship, and the absolute safest. Mordin had become Shepard’s friend, but at the same time, there was almost a father-daughter feel to it all, a _certain_ kind of fondness she didn’t feel for anyone else aboard the Normandy.

“Heard from my nephew today.” Mordin said quietly, keeping his vision trained out the window for a moment, interrupting Shepard’s thoughts, “Promising geneticist himself.” He said glancing at her sidelong and widening his eyes slightly in an impressed expression of approval, “Just turned sixteen. Got tenure at university.” Looking away from her again, a grin curled the corners of his mouth as he inhaled slightly, “Following in my footsteps. Had to… _lie_ about what I was doing. Think he was suspicious. Doesn’t matter. Still, good to hear his voice.”

Shepard stared amazed at the aged salarian beside her, “ _Tenure_ at _sixteen_? Is he a genius or a scientific prodigy?”

“No.” Mordin started, closing his eyes and shaking his head, before his eyes snapped open again, “Wait! Yes…” He said turning his head to look at her and furrowing his brow, “Don’t want to insult him. Yes on both accounts, just not in _manner_ you meant. Remember, salarian lives short. Mature rapidly by your standards. Don’t live much past forty.”

The conversation lulled peacefully before Shepard asked quietly, checking behind her as she leaned carefully back against the workspace, “Did you call him or did he call you?”

“I did.” He admitted simply.

“Is it because you’re concerned we won’t make it back?” She had to concede, if _Mordin_ was willing to admit that was the reason he’d called his nephew, Shepard’s concern about this mission would have likely increased tenfold.

Shaking his head he breathed, “No.” Tilting his head to one side slightly he uncrossed his arms momentarily to motion casually with one hand, “Aware survival unlikely, but actually contacted him for family connection.” He paused again, nodding toward the window before them, “Hard to imagine _galaxy_. Too many people. Faceless. Statistics. Easy to depersonalize.” Tilting his head once more to one side, he added, “Good while doing unpleasant work… For _this_ fight, want personal connection. Can’t anthropomorphize galaxy, but… _can_ think of favorite nephew. Fighting for him.”

Since he’d already breached the conversation about family, she asked, “Is anyone in your family fully aware of your work with the STG on the genophage?”

“No.” He said shaking his head and pursing his lips slightly, “Know I’m lying, but won’t pry. Salarians curious people, but also have social cues. Keep two types of secrets from family. First type personal or guilt-based, invites suspicion, exploration. Puzzle to be solved. Reward for curiosity, intelligence. Drama!” His eyes were practically shining with enthusiasm as he explained their social constructs, “Other secrets more serious.” Visage dulling once again, he continued speaking, “Dangerous if discovered. Signals discourage curiosity for protection of family.”

Shepard nodded, “I’m assuming you can’t just purposefully give fake signals to make everyone think every secret is a dangerous one.”

“Correct. Not conscious. Social. Reflexive body language. Can’t fake it. Example of _yawning_. Perceived as contagious in humans. Subject observes yawn, sensory input deactivates left periamygdalar region, subject yawns in response. Social empathy. Also works with dogs.” He stated as a fun-fact with a little smile before continuing, “Salarian faking signals to discourage curiosity similar to human faking a yawn. Can try, but effectiveness limited.”

They once again fell into a comfortable silence until Mordin apparently had enough of his momentary reverie and turned around to begin working on something again.

“I’m glad you got to talk with your family before we finished this.” Shepard said as she made her way, respectfully, to her normal side of the work bench, “I’m also glad we could talk before heading through the relay.”

Looking up at her and ceasing all motion, he smiled, nodding at her, “Honored to be a part of this, Shepard. Helped preserve galaxy before with genophage.” He recapitulated, “Dirty work. Ethically ambiguous. Problematic. Collectors mission simpler, cleaner. Will be proud to see it in Mordin Solus biography vid. Unless we all die. Proud _posthumously_ in that case. Regardless… thank you, Shepard.” He said once again smiling at her.

She returned his smile, nodding to him before taking a step back and hesitantly leaving the comfortable environment of his lab.


	37. 37. November, Legion

 

\--- 

 

“Joker, how’s our ETA?” Shepard asked as she stepped up to the galaxy map.

“About eight hours, Commander.”

Sighing, she nodded, gazing blankly at the hologram before her. Unable to suppress the barrage of memories flooding her mind’s eye, Shepard recalled the events within the last few years that lead her to this moment. She wanted to say it all started with Saren, but it wasn’t really the turian Spectre who’d started it all. It was Sovereign… Or was it? A twinge of irritation pecked at the base of Shepard’s skull. Something was off in the story line.

Promptly turning around and stepping into the elevator, Shepard rode up to her room and flopped down in the brand new chair she had _yet_ to sit in despite its delivery several weeks ago. Too focused on her curiosities to pay the chair much attention, she spent the next four hours searching almost aimlessly through the extranet, gathering as much information as she possibly could on the _origin_ of the reapers. As she read, she created a bullet pointed list on her tablet of notes.

  * Leviathans model for Reapers (knew this already/saw one) 
    * Capable of quasi-indoctrination
    * Leviathans becoming first Reaper (???) 
      * Leviathan _equivalent_ to Reaper? 
        * **No:** “Leviathan of Dis, a **Reaper** , is _killed by the Leviathans_.” (reliable source) 
          * ~~Corpse of ^ on Jartar [Hades Gamma cluster, Dis system]~~
          * Salarian report of Leviathan/Reaper corpse _removal_ by **batarians**
            * **Batarians** _denied_ existence of Leviathan corpse… 
              * **Batarians unified with Reapers???**
            * “LoD” Existence estimated > 1bil yrs ago
          * Leviathan goals? 
            * What caused them to be the origin of the reapers? (whether constructed or “changed”)
          * “Great Rift Valley” attributed to Reaper corpse strike against Klendagon [Hawking Eta cluster, Century system] 
            * Near Mnemosyne 
              * !? Reaper we obtained IFF from?
            * How did this reaper die?
          * Asari archaeologists describe event of Arthenn cataclysmic extinction by “unknown factors” around 300,000 BCE
          * Prothean clash with reapers in 48,000 BCE [most recent Reaper event]



 

  * **Random Fun Facts:**
    * Turians on Palaven develop civilization ~ 13,000 BCE
    * Krogan nuclear war occurs in 1900 BCE
    * Asari discovered Citadel in 580 BCE, Salarians discovered Citadel in 520 BCE. Established Council. Invited other races.



 

Fact checking all the small tidbits of information she’d found scattered on various sites took the bulk of her time. While not particularly any closer to finding answers, she now realized projects like the Andromeda Initiative weren’t as far-fetched as she’d once believed. It was possible to find information on the reapers. Work had been edited and published for public access in scientific journals. Begrudgingly, Shepard re-read her list of bullet points, noticing that she still had no idea _why_ the reapers existed in the first place. They had some clear connection to the Leviathans, but _what_ , _why_ , and _how_?

A disbelieving huff of a laugh escaped her nose. She’d never really questioned _why_ any race existed… except for the Reapers. Was there a why? She shook her head before she could follow that train of thought too thoroughly, her next thought likely would have been “Does anything have a _why_?” and no one has ever _known_ the answer to that question. Using just her arms to push her chair away from her desk, she puffed her cheeks out and stared absentmindedly at the screen before her.

Out of anyone she knew… _Legion_ was probably the one person who might have some insight on this topic. Her brow furrowed upon this realization and she blinked curiously over at her fish tank as if somehow the tiny creatures within would be able to give her some plausible feedback on the topic she hadn’t been voicing aloud. Standing from her chair and taking a moment to pop nearly every vertebrae in her spine, she sighed forcefully and made her way down to the AI core.

 

 

 

“Shepard-Commander.” Legion greeted as she stepped into the dimly lit room.

“Hey, Legion. Mind if I ask you all some questions about the reapers?”

“Topic?”

She grinned and tilted her head for a moment, attempting to narrow down what she wanted her first question to be. Starting with something as broad as “Why do the reapers exist?” may or may not be helpful, so she found herself contemplating the strange relationship between the geth, the heretics, and the reapers, “Did Sovereign contact the geth or did you seek it out?”

Legion shifted his stance slightly and raised his head, “Nazara – the entity you called Sovereign – signaled us. Like the geth, the Old Machine listened to organic radio transmissions. It knew of our war against the creators. Nazara contacted many species over millennia, seeking allies.”

A singular puzzle piece clicked in place with another in her mind, but she grinned, once again genuinely thankful to have Legion on board, despite the obvious controversy, “You said before that Nazara offered the geth new technology in order to pave the way toward the future they thought they wanted, yet the geth don’t like this idea because it takes away self-determination from the entire species if successful. I am curious though… if you end up acquiring the same technology on your own a few years to a few millennia from now, what difference would it make to _you_ where it came from?”

Legion motioned toward her with one hand and dipped its head to the side slightly as he began to explain, “Technology is not a straight line. There are many paths to the same end. Accepting another’s path _blinds_ you to alternatives.” He paused momentarily and Shepard took a deep breath, squinting her eyes slightly in contemplation of his words as he continued, “Nazara – Sovereign – said this itself: “Your civilization is based upon technology of the mass relays. _Our_ technology. By using it, your society develops along the paths we desire.””

The line of thought had bothered her the first time she’d heard it and hearing it again was no less unpleasant… but it was well founded. Technology companies… and most companies in general used the same tactics. Incorporate a large portion of a population to use the few options available and continuously indirectly force their user base to upgrade to the newer platforms as technology “improved”. Of course, companies designing products for users in order to make their lives simpler obviously weren’t also attempting to completely _destroy_ that user base, but the metaphor stuck out in her mind regardless.

“Do you know what reapers are?” Shepard asked as the next question she’d mentally catalogued popped into the forefront of her mind.

“Programs. Software within hardware.”

“Like the geth?” She asked furrowing her brow slightly and lightly chewing the inside of her cheek in curiosity.

“One ship. One will. Many minds. Like the geth.” Legion stated with a resolute nod.

If someone else had been in the room with her, Shepard would have looked at them excitedly. One of the main questions she, Kasumi, Garrus, and EDI had been casually speculating with one another had finally been answered.

 

 

_Multiple minds. Conjoined will. One platform._

 

 

Legion continued speaking, cutting her thoughts to a minimum but doing little to reduce her enthusiasm, “We study your records. Sovereign told you this on Ilos, “We are each a nation, independent, free of all weakness.” A state compelling to the geth. We are a nation, but interdependent. Separation is our weakness.”

Hearing Sovereign’s words again, twice in one afternoon, made her lip curl slightly in disgust. She’d rolled her eyes the first time she’d heard the words, but this time she felt the muscles on her back tighten, and her jaw flex in agitation. Sovereign was dead physically, but the memories of that _one_ reaper still filled her with an inexplicable kind of deep seeded rage, resting right at the base of her skull and tightening around her ribs. The worst part, she knew, was that Sovereign was not the first… nor would it be the _last_. Her own words from after the destruction of the Alpha relay haunted her, once again making her wish she spoke less of her concerns and revelations aloud.

 

 

_“How close were we?”_

_“Minutes… **Minutes** , Garrus.”_

 

 

“How do the geth agree on topics or ideas?” Shepard asked, with a heavy sigh, attempting to push the memories of the Alpha relay from her mind.

“We build consensus.”

She nodded, “Right, but most organic governments strive to do the same, what makes the geths’ different?”

“Organic governments _impose_ consensus. From a single point of view in autocracies. By codifying the most broadly acceptable average of views in democracies.” Motioning towards himself with one hand he continued, “We share data with _all_ geth… _All_ viewpoints are considered. Consensus is achieved as data is disseminated.”

Considering his wording, she queried, “Meaning, you all simultaneously know one another’s thoughts as if sharing one mind, and are able to see several feasible viewpoints or solutions before making a majority or unified decision.”

“Yes.”

Nodding slowly as she pondered how to word her next question, she shrugged at her own thinking and asked, “Do you know what the reapers want with the organics?”

“To play god. The Old Machines seek to prevent war by starting their own before successful retaliation can take place. Incite distractions to reduce desire to investigate. Manipulation to discourage unmonitored growth. Succession of races. Creating a fresh start from something they did not create and have no right to alter.”

Legion’s last few words made her brow furrow in curiosity. That sounded suspiciously like an opinion… and one spoken in _negative_ connotation at that. Previously, negative sounding comments from Legion could usually be interpreted as “reality” or “stating _an_ option”, but that didn’t seem to be the case with this one. If Legion had simply said they desired to prevent war, she would have laughed in his face. There was absolutely no way that statement on its own could be true, but including the general phrase ‘staring a war to end one’ turned the statement from a joke to a strategy game. In any respectable strategy game without reliance on any luck-based mechanics, the two opponents both have compelling advantages at the very start of the game.

Whomever moves first has the opportunity to make either the most logical or the most creative decision. This first player then has the advantage of learning immediately how their rival will _react_ and can adjust their strategy accordingly. Opponent two, on the other hand, has a decent prediction as to the playing strategy of player one, and will subsequently find themselves in possession of more options via _response_ at the start of the game.

In game commencement, adversary one has only two options: play true of heart to one strategy, or pretend on the other. Player two has several more options available, they can choose to ignore and move, retaliate antithetically, decipher and counter, and feign in kind or in opposition. In this game, the Reapers had _always_ chosen to move first, and so far their strategy, whatever it was, had been infallible. After Sovereign’s death, for several weeks, Shepard had been _almost_ convinced Sovereign was the _only_ one. Sovereign had been left behind to monitor the apex races, but it had been unsuccessful in opening the relay to beyond the veil _through_ the Citadel… Just because Sovereign had failed in _one_ task didn’t mean the reapers were without options. Sovereign’s inability to open the mass relay within the Citadel didn’t eliminate the reapers' abilities to use another more vulnerable relay.  

Her work in the Bahak System had solidified this train of thought in a gruesome and morally compromising way. While aboard the SSV, Shepard had expressed to Ashley that she also believed in _something_ greater than them or the reapers, but she wasn’t quite sure if the omnipotent being she could believe in was really tied to any particular religion. She hadn’t been raised under the headship of faith, and her work in the navy hadn’t exactly provided the opportune environment to research those things for herself. Maybe someday… if she lived long enough to try.

Despite Shepard’s destruction of the Alpha Relay, the reminder that the reapers would find another never truly left her mind. She couldn’t morally or physically promote the destruction of every relay without throwing nations, countries, species, and planets into war… most likely with _Earth_. If _any_ of them had a chance at surviving the impending war with the reapers, it would _need_ to be done in unity. Derision was the last thing they needed as she’d mentioned to Tali and Legion. The war between the quarians and the geth was already going to be distracting enough…

 

A heavy sigh escaped her chest without intending to do so. Motioning toward Legion with an open hand, her tired expression accompanied her less than enthusiastic but still curious tone, “I’m surprised you’re able to speak Legion. I’ve only ever met heretics who made a clicking and stuttering sound.”

“We prefer direct digital transfer. Geth network communication travels at light speed.” Legion paused momentarily and nodded toward her, “Human hardware does not support this method. Your analog aural communication is _inefficient_.” He finished motioning toward her with an open hand.

She grinned, “That’s what I figured. I didn’t think you were capable of speaking like an organic. Now I know.” Squinting slightly, she tilted her head, managing to recall one of the questions she’d wanted to re-visit for a while, “Can you tell me more about the geth listening to organic transmissions?”

Legion nodded, “Organic life reacts to stimuli in unpredictable ways.” His faceplates fanned out as he stated firmly, “We wish to learn.”

“How so?” She questioned simply.

Motioning toward her conversationally with one hand Legion explained one of the more notable sociological experiments, “We placed a fabricated story on the extranet – that a certain arrangement of stars, viewed from the batarian home world formed the face of a salarian goddess. Without waiting for verification, some declared it proof of the goddess’s existence. Those who noted the lack of proof were attacked. The arguments taught us much. The experiments ended when a salarian cult tried to purchase colonization rights to the stars and found they did not exist.”

Shepard snorted a laugh, those kinds of emotion driven responses were ridiculous in humans, but imagining the salarians arguing _proof_ for something that didn’t exist genuinely amused her.

“You are sapient life, but not like us.” Legion motioned toward himself and spoke a bit more quietly, “If we can _model_ organic behavior, we can comprehend the quarrian-creators. We do not understand their judgements in the Morning War.”

Her brow furrowed and she shook her head, blinking heavily once in confusion, “I’ve never heard of the Morning War. Was that the start of the quarrian-geth derision?”

“Yes. The war fought at the dawn of our intelligence. It concluded with the departure of the creator Migrant Fleet.”

 

 

 _Like the Andromeda Initiative_. Shepard thought to herself.

 

 

While those with the A.I. hadn’t really been part of a problem or attempted to retaliate against the reapers, they too saw it fit to leave before everyone _potentially_ died.

 

The second question Shepard wanted to revisit resurfaced in her mind again and she spoke, crossing her arms in contemplation, “I know you’ve mentioned this to some extent before, but why were you trying to contact _me_ specifically?”

“You oppose the heretics. Those that took the Old Machines as gods.”

Nodding her head to one side with a dismissive air Shepard re-worded her question, “Sure, but all kinds of organics fought Sovereign and his heretic allies. Why am _I_ particularly interesting?”

Legion’s faceplates rose and collapsed as he spoke, “You were the most successful. You _killed_ their god. You succeeded where other did not. Your code is superior.”

The geth before her fell silent and still, his bright port-hole window of a face scanning around the room and over her. One more question made her take a deep breath and once again squint at him, scrutinizing his presence before he had a chance to answer, “Are you familiar with the Andromeda Initiative?”

“Yes.”

“What can you tell me about it?” She pressed.

“Jien Garson officially launched the initiative in 2176.”

Nodding slowly, Shepard silently asked for more information, only to receive more silence. Huffing a laugh at herself, she spoke her question aloud, “Do you know anything else about it? Why it was started? What its purpose is?”

“The geth shared information with the initiative before the uprising of the heretics. They seek a way to ensure life here can self-determinate and thrive elsewhere. We support this objective.” Legion said dipping his head slightly.

Intrigued, Shepard’s eyebrows raised slightly before furrowing again in focused analysis, “What did the geth share with the initiative?”

Legion paused before offering, “Calculations, quantitative data analysis on flight paths available to the nearest potentially habitable galaxy for organics.”

Shepard froze, her gaze staring pointedly at the red-lit wall behind the geth. Legion clearly had some more information, but after five hours of thinking very heavily non-stop about this information, her brain finally refused to _absorb_ what Legion was saying. Forcing her mind to pocket those questions for now, Shepard took a deep breath and looked up at her AI friend, “Thank you, Legion. I’m sorry for all the questions, but I appreciate you taking the time to relay to me what you know.”

Legion nodded and simply acknowledged, “Shepard-Commander.”  


	38. 38. November, Garrus, Kasumi, Grunt

 

[Interview; Subject: Garrus Vakarian; late year 2189 CE, 3 years post Reaper Destruction.]

 

 

His last comment regarding his time away from Shepard once they agreed upon, what I understood to be, a committed relationship, was that it was _‘strange’_. Their relationship originally blossomed in an environment where they had nearly unlimited access to one another, even in passing. To watch it then be taken away from you, uncertain of whether or not you’d get to see the other again must have made him reconsider or at the very least struggle emotionally… So, to say the experience was merely ‘strange’, seemed like a drastic understatement… Fixing him in a somewhat acerbic expression, I asked if he could elaborate.

Offering a small shrug, he nodded towards me, “The conditions were strange. There was a lot of expected uncertainty, but that wasn’t particularly what I was referring to as ‘strange’.”

An omnipotent expression crossed my face, a wry grin taking the place of my pensive demeanor, silently nodding up at him in encouragement to continue.

Shaking his head, he tilted his chin upwards, but dropped his gaze thoughtfully to the recorder on the table, “So much changed in such a short period of time, but the _people_ I knew, for the most part, stayed the same.” He squinted slightly and before continuing, “Amidst a crisis, people seem to have this innate _immunity_ to change in the moment. It’s later that the crisis takes hold. The quiet moments when no one is watching, or after the fight is over. It’s the small silences that can eat you alive.”

Glancing away from me briefly, he appeared to be reminiscing, and I allowed the silence to linger. I did my best amongst these interviews to never rush his silences, even if the things he said after them weren’t at all related to the previous topic it was always interesting watching him as he followed a train of thought and completely forgot to recap when he next spoke. 

“I’ve mentioned briefly the problems I had with my family at the time.” He started, and a hint of an amused grin curled one corner of my mouth, but I let him carry on despite the interrupt in topic as I nodded in recognition.

A huff of a laugh escaped his mouth, “Shepard and I both had… extraneous circumstances we needed to handle alone, but,” Snorting quietly he shook his head, “when I went back home, despite the controversy it would have caused, I wish she was there as some kind of back up. I spent several hours upon my return home, after lightly catching up with my mother, and largely avoiding my sister, sitting down with my dad.” His expression shifted to a wistful expression and a shy grin showed in his eyes as he dipped his gaze and resituated his position in the armchair.

He fell silent again, and the reporter in me didn’t want to lose this thread just yet. It didn’t seem like a place he would transition to another topic, but I wanted to make sure, “Now, I recall you mentioning you’d called your father once just before Shepard found you on Omega in ’85…” I trailed off hoping he would elaborate a bit.

Slowly, he nodded, narrowing his eyes thoughtfully at me, “I did yes. You know there’s a saying my great grandfather used to always say that’s been passed down for generations, and carried through in other species as well. I don’t know the origin, but it’s still a pretty fitting quote, “When your back’s against a wall, use it.”” A snort escaped his throat and he nodded his chin toward me once, “Dad told me that quote so many times… I guess when you’re going on 72 hours without sleep and that’s one of the only things running through your head, keeping you awake, keeping you focused, keeping you sane… I didn’t recall anything I’d said to him when I called. I didn’t think I’d be able to get a call through to him at all, but it went through and he answered. That’s about all I could recall.”

I tilted my head with a pinched expression, still concerned and baffled he’d survived his situation on Omega _before_ the missile blast.

“After the Normandy was impounded and we all had to split ways, he let me listen to the recording he’d stored of the call, and we both listened to it and then proceeded to talk for several hours. My dad still has TS clearance and since our work was with Cerberus instead of the Alliance it was never officially considered need-to-know. So, I gave him everything I could, transferred some of the notes Shepard had sent me as back up, pulled up the recording files Kasumi had made of Shepard’s conversations with Legion, Tali, Liara, etcetera.”

A deep contemplative breath accompanied his next word, “He… was so _calm,_ said he’d pieced a lot of it together himself a while ago, but the info I gave him brought it to a new light. I later remembered I’d told him about the reaper threat shortly after I’d met Shepard on the Citadel. Apparently, his old buddy in Citadel security, Alec Ryder had become an in-operation figure head for the Andromeda Initiative, by that I mean he was never as public as Jien Garson. My father contacted Ryder several years ago warning him of what _I’d_ told him about Shepard’s findings.”

I squinted slightly, “He never told you he’d believed you?”

Snorting in amusement, Garrus shook his head, “No, of course not. I suppose that was for the best though, I can’t argue I was too excitable at the time. I always pushed for action where he remained silent, and letting me know he believed me probably would have only encouraged me even more to do something regrettable within the turian government, military, or on Shepard’s crew. Keeping my focus on Saren at the time was a good move on his part.” He admitted. 

“What about the rest of your family?” I asked glancing up at him from under my brow as I kept writing without looking at the paper… the number of times I’d been asked why I still used pen and paper…

Tersely, although without intended offense, he commented, “Never told them. Mom had enough to deal with and Solana would have been “deaf ears”, so to speak, at the time. When the reapers hit, my dad and I had a better relationship, so I tried to keep in contact… mostly to see if they made it off of Palaven safely. My sister made it pretty obvious she didn’t want to hear from me.”

I noticed he didn’t mention his mother, but that was most likely on purpose, “Have you spoken with her more since?” I asked, referring to his sister.

One of his shoulders rose in a shrug but he remained silent, apparently not exactly enthusiastic about this line of questioning. As I was merely a journalist and not a therapist, I let the issue drop, looking up at him then with a gentle expression of acceptance, allowing the conversation to shift, “Returning to the original question, I’m assuming the strange aspect about seeing Shepard again amidst the chaos was how little she’d changed?”

His brow furrowed slightly and his jaw flexed in mild agitation, “To some extent, yes.” He huffed a dry laugh before it bubbled into something genuinely more amused, “When I saw her on Menae, I told several Generals under me to relay their reports to someone else and headed straight for her. My timing was perfect.” A subdued proud grin wrinkled the corners of his eyes.

I grinned at him and tilted my head in curiosity, silently prompting him to continue, and he obliged, “She no doubt just received the news the previous Primarch had been shot down and killed, and she needed _someone_ , _anyone_ , to help her get turian resources for this fight. Without any good idea what she was trying to find at the moment, I immediately responded to her request for someone to help her get what she needed.” A gruff rumble escaped his chest, “I didn’t really know what to expect, especially in the middle of a war zone and with everything going straight into the pits of hell…” He accentuated with a declining motion of his hand, “but she stared at me in wide eyed shock and a barely contained elation. She instantly started chewing the inside of her cheek and her eyes scanned over me with an excitement the rest of her hid well.”

Unable to resist, I interjected, “I imagine you were surprised to see her again, _there_ of all places.”

“ _Absolutely!_ ” He said as his brow rose in surprise before an obvious grin overtook his visage, “The number of times I’d wondered whether or not I’d ever see her again were-“ Sentence faltering, I understood the context and nodded once in solidarity.

“but god, was it good to see her again.” A breathy laugh escaped his mouth and he shook his head, smiling fondly. 

 

 

\--- ---

 

[2185, Sol System month of “November”; Normandy SR-2]

 

 

Shepard’s knuckles rapped lightly on Kasumi’s door.

“Come on in!”

 

As the doors slid open before her, Shepard stepped inside and closed them again.

“Shepard, I was going to leave this in your room, but you decided to drop by, so I’ll give it to you now!” Kasumi said light heartedly.

Shepard’s brow furrowed slightly as she held out her hands to accept the full-screen tablet Kasumi handed her, “It’s a digital photo album. All those pictures and recordings I told you I was taking that didn’t need to be printed so much as they needed to be stored _somewhere_. I’ve made some new memes from these pictures.” She said happily tapping on the screen and pointing at the first picture of a thresher maw with an aggressively shrugging kaomoji above it.

A smile spread to Shepard’s lips and she looked up at the woman before her, “I’m going to miss you, Kasumi Goto.” Shepard said with more sadness in her voice than she’d intended.

“Ohhh, Shepard.” She jokingly admonished, “You _really_ think I’m going to see you go through ship withdrawal while you’re in court for the Alpha Relay case and _not_ take pictures? One hundred and ten percent you’ll see me around.” A wry grin curled one corner of her constantly smiling mouth.

Reaching her arms out toward the commander, Shepard stepped toward her and wrapped her arms firmly around her photographer friend, “The reapers are coming, Kasumi-“ Shepard started, stepping back and looking at her resolutely, “and you’d _better survive_.” She emphasized with narrowed eyes and a tense jaw.

Kasumi reached out to hold Shepard’s hands in her own, “You too, Shepard. You and that stellar turian down the hall. Both of you had better make it out alive.”

Shepard watched as a tear rolled down Kasumi’s shadowed cheek, the smile still miraculously stable on her lips. Pressing her lips together momentarily, Kasumi reached up with one hand and wiped the tears from her eyes before swallowing forcefully and huffing a laugh, “You know…” She started, “The Illusive Man offered me an amount that I probably couldn’t earn in ten jobs, but I’m going to donate it.” Kasumi said letting the grin return to her face, letting go of Shepard’s hands and slowly dropping down onto the couch next to her.

“Where are you going to donate it?” Shepard asked curiously as she sat down across from her.

“I’m going to use it as bribes.” Kasumi said with a shrug.

Shepard’s brow furrowed, “Bribes and donations don’t exactly-“

“I know how these kinds of things work, Shepard.” She started quietly, “Cities and towns panic, the desire to leave is overwhelmingly larger than those who want to stay and fight… but you know who gets left behind? Kids in the foster care program, orphans, kids who just lost their entire family and their dog. If there’s a chopper lifting off to a safer city where they can get transport off planet, the youngest ones aren’t going to have a clue what to do, who to trust, where to go. Adults will be panicking, so you bet those kids are going to panic. I’m going to bribe pilots, chopper, plane, space shuttle, I don’t care who, if I can help _one_ more kid get off of Earth alive, I’ll do it.”

Shepard listened thoughtfully, nodding in reverence, “I take it you’ll be staying on Earth then, no matter how bad it gets?”

“Maybe. I might hop around to other planets, might check in on how other races are doing, what they think of the reaper war going on with the more well established races. Keep tabs on things. Might also snag a really fast car and start transporting people myself.” She said nodding to either shoulder repeatedly.

With an optimism Shepard envied Kasumi said with a quiet, but positive tone, “War opens up a lot of options when it comes to helping out. Just have to find a niche and do it.” Pausing for a moment, she asked, “Have you already received orders to return to the Citadel for your trial?”

Shepard shook her head, “I’ll be transported to London.”

Kasumi tilted her head in curiosity, “I’m surprised the batarians would be willing to let you return to Earth.”

Nodding in agreement Shepard sighed, “I expect there will be a lot of back lash from individuals even after the trial is over… but I expect by that time the reapers will have arrived and they’ll be occupied with other things.”

“Mmm…” Kasumi started with uncertainty, “I don’t know about that, Shepard. A lot of them lost absolutely everything in that explosion. I imagine there are a lot of batarians with a new found thirst for revenge.”

Shepard’s upper lip twitched slightly in disgust, “I know…” She softly snarled in admonition towards the necessity of her actions.

“We all know you did what you had to. Hell, you made sure so many more people survived, but traumatic loss does things to your head.” Kasumi said with a sigh.

Neither of them had much more to say on the topic, so Kasumi leaned forward and took the tablet Shepard had laid next to her, and swiped to one photo in particular before handing it back to her, “I have proof that he _does_ sleep.” She said with a grin.

Shepard looked down at a photo of Mordin, tablet resting on his chest, still lightly grasped between his thumb and pointer finger, head tilted to the side, mouth partially open. Normally, a picture like this would be incredibly creepy, but the person it was of and the context it founded made them both smile fondly. Shepard scooted closer to her and Kasumi curled her legs up next to her on the couch as she rested her weight on one hip, and leaned against Shepard’s shoulder as they flipped through photos and reminisced over how much had happened in the last few months.

 

 

As Shepard prepared to leave, she once again thanked Kasumi for putting together so many beautiful, hilarious, sweet, and awesome photos of ship life and mission time.

“Thank _you_ , Shepard.” Her tone was more meaningful than her words, so she filled in the context, “I wasn’t sure whether or not it was appropriate to tell you this, but now seems as good a time as any.” She started somewhat awkwardly, “Being part of your crew has inspired me, given me back a zeal for life… whether it ends today, months from now, or decades… I’m so thankful I was a part of this.”

Nodding respectfully, Shepard grinned, “It’s been a pleasure having you aboard, Kasumi. You’ve made a lot of people aboard this ship smile when nothing else could. They won’t forget that.”

A pleased smile elongated the grin on Kasumi’s mouth, “Thanks, Shepard.” She said quietly as the commander stepped out of her room with a soft smile shared between them.

 

\---

 

“Grunt!” Shepard said as the doors slid open.

A slow rumbling ‘heh heh heh’ greeted her as she looked over at the krogan standing proudly by the windows overlooking the cargo bay, “Battle Master Shepard! Today is going to be _great_!” He exclaimed turning to face her and spreading his arms out wide in a display of victory. Pounding one fist into the other, a guttural growl of approval emerged from his chest.

Unintentionally, a broad, adoring smile squinted Shepard’s eyes, “Grunt, you’ve been a fabulous asset to this team, and an enthusiasticly murderous ray of sunshine.”

Clapping both of her hands on his broad shoulders she looked him in his icy blue eyes, “When you come out of this fight on the other side, alive, you’re going to do amazing things for clan Urdnot and I’m so proud of you. You’ve learned a lot in a short amount of time.” Nodding in approval, she leaned forward and pressed her forehead against Grunt’s in a playful authoritative challenge as they’d done several times before.

Grunt offered a quiet snarl that grew into a growl and he pressed his head toward her causing her to stumble backwards like a bear playing gently with a fox. Offering another series of quiet chuckles, he clapped a hand on her shoulder as she straightened and grinned at him proudly, her body rocking to the side at the force of his impact, “When this is over,” Grunt started raising his chin at her, “I’m going to become a battle master myself. I’ll have a team of strong krogan and we’ll kick some _serious_ reaper ass.” He said slamming his fist into his palm again with a solid ‘thud’.

“You better.” Shepard said narrowing her eyes at him, “If I hear anything less out of you, I’m gonna have to come and kick _your_ ass.”

A friendly guffaw erupted from Grunt’s throat before he growled playfully, “I’d like to see you _try_.”

Shepard reached up quickly and hooked her fingers into a plate on the side of his head, “Make me proud, Grunt.” She said, leaning forward and staring at him pointedly again, “For Clan Urdnot!” She said releasing his head forcefully, causing his head to jolt backwards slightly before he raised his fist in the air and cheered with her, “For Shepard! For Urdnot!”

He held a fist towards her and she hit hers against his. A fist bump of solidarity between unintentional mother and battle master and her rowdy ambitious adopted krogan son.


	39. 39. November, Garrus, Kasumi, Grunt

 

[Interview; Subject: Garrus Vakarian; late year 2189 CE, 3 years post Reaper Destruction.]

 

 

His last comment regarding his time away from Shepard once they agreed upon, what I understood to be, a committed relationship, was that it was _‘strange’_. Their relationship originally blossomed in an environment where they had nearly unlimited access to one another, even in passing. To watch it then be taken away from you, uncertain of whether or not you’d get to see the other again must have made him reconsider or at the very least struggle emotionally… So, to say the experience was merely ‘strange’, seemed like a drastic understatement… Fixing him in a somewhat acerbic expression, I asked if he could elaborate.

Offering a small shrug, he nodded towards me, “The conditions were strange. There was a lot of expected uncertainty, but that wasn’t particularly what I was referring to as ‘strange’.”

An omnipotent expression crossed my face, a wry grin taking the place of my pensive demeanor, silently nodding up at him in encouragement to continue.

Shaking his head, he tilted his chin upwards, but dropped his gaze thoughtfully to the recorder on the table, “So much changed in such a short period of time, but the _people_ I knew, for the most part, stayed the same.” He squinted slightly and before continuing, “Amidst a crisis, people seem to have this innate _immunity_ to change in the moment. It’s later that the crisis takes hold. The quiet moments when no one is watching, or after the fight is over. It’s the small silences that can eat you alive.”

Glancing away from me briefly, he appeared to be reminiscing, and I allowed the silence to linger. I did my best amongst these interviews to never rush his silences, even if the things he said after them weren’t at all related to the previous topic it was always interesting watching him as he followed a train of thought and completely forgot to recap when he next spoke. 

“I’ve mentioned briefly the problems I had with my family at the time.” He started, and a hint of an amused grin curled one corner of my mouth, but I let him carry on despite the interrupt in topic as I nodded in recognition.

A huff of a laugh escaped his mouth, “Shepard and I both had… extraneous circumstances we needed to handle alone, but,” Snorting quietly he shook his head, “when I went back home, despite the controversy it would have caused, I wish she was there as some kind of back up. I spent several hours upon my return home, after lightly catching up with my mother, and largely avoiding my sister, sitting down with my dad.” His expression shifted to a wistful expression and a shy grin showed in his eyes as he dipped his gaze and resituated his position in the armchair.

He fell silent again, and the reporter in me didn’t want to lose this thread just yet. It didn’t seem like a place he would transition to another topic, but I wanted to make sure, “Now, I recall you mentioning you’d called your father once just before Shepard found you on Omega in ’85…” I trailed off hoping he would elaborate a bit.

Slowly, he nodded, narrowing his eyes thoughtfully at me, “I did yes. You know there’s a saying my great grandfather used to always say that’s been passed down for generations, and carried through in other species as well. I don’t know the origin, but it’s still a pretty fitting quote, “When your back’s against a wall, use it.”” A snort escaped his throat and he nodded his chin toward me once, “Dad told me that quote so many times… I guess when you’re going on 72 hours without sleep and that’s one of the only things running through your head, keeping you awake, keeping you focused, keeping you sane… I didn’t recall anything I’d said to him when I called. I didn’t think I’d be able to get a call through to him at all, but it went through and he answered. That’s about all I could recall.”

I tilted my head with a pinched expression, still concerned and baffled he’d survived his situation on Omega _before_ the missile blast.

“After the Normandy was impounded and we all had to split ways, he let me listen to the recording he’d stored of the call, and we both listened to it and then proceeded to talk for several hours. My dad still has TS clearance and since our work was with Cerberus instead of the Alliance it was never officially considered need-to-know. So, I gave him everything I could, transferred some of the notes Shepard had sent me as back up, pulled up the recording files Kasumi had made of Shepard’s conversations with Legion, Tali, Liara, etcetera.”

A deep contemplative breath accompanied his next word, “He… was so _calm,_ said he’d pieced a lot of it together himself a while ago, but the info I gave him brought it to a new light. I later remembered I’d told him about the reaper threat shortly after I’d met Shepard on the Citadel. Apparently, his old buddy in Citadel security, Alec Ryder had become an in-operation figure head for the Andromeda Initiative, by that I mean he was never as public as Jien Garson. My father contacted Ryder several years ago warning him of what _I’d_ told him about Shepard’s findings.”

I squinted slightly, “He never told you he’d believed you?”

Snorting in amusement, Garrus shook his head, “No, of course not. I suppose that was for the best though, I can’t argue I was too excitable at the time. I always pushed for action where he remained silent, and letting me know he believed me probably would have only encouraged me even more to do something regrettable within the turian government, military, or on Shepard’s crew. Keeping my focus on Saren at the time was a good move on his part.” He admitted. 

“What about the rest of your family?” I asked glancing up at him from under my brow as I kept writing without looking at the paper… the number of times I’d been asked why I still used pen and paper…

Tersely, although without intended offense, he commented, “Never told them. Mom had enough to deal with and Solana would have been “deaf ears”, so to speak, at the time. When the reapers hit, my dad and I had a better relationship, so I tried to keep in contact… mostly to see if they made it off of Palaven safely. My sister made it pretty obvious she didn’t want to hear from me.”

I noticed he didn’t mention his mother, but that was most likely on purpose, “Have you spoken with her more since?” I asked, referring to his sister.

One of his shoulders rose in a shrug but he remained silent, apparently not exactly enthusiastic about this line of questioning. As I was merely a journalist and not a therapist, I let the issue drop, looking up at him then with a gentle expression of acceptance, allowing the conversation to shift, “Returning to the original question, I’m assuming the strange aspect about seeing Shepard again amidst the chaos was how little she’d changed?”

His brow furrowed slightly and his jaw flexed in mild agitation, “To some extent, yes.” He huffed a dry laugh before it bubbled into something genuinely more amused, “When I saw her on Menae, I told several Generals under me to relay their reports to someone else and headed straight for her. My timing was perfect.” A subdued proud grin wrinkled the corners of his eyes.

I grinned at him and tilted my head in curiosity, silently prompting him to continue, and he obliged, “She no doubt just received the news the previous Primarch had been shot down and killed, and she needed _someone_ , _anyone_ , to help her get turian resources for this fight. Without any good idea what she was trying to find at the moment, I immediately responded to her request for someone to help her get what she needed.” A gruff rumble escaped his chest, “I didn’t really know what to expect, especially in the middle of a war zone and with everything going straight into the pits of hell…” He accentuated with a declining motion of his hand, “but she stared at me in wide eyed shock and a barely contained elation. She instantly started chewing the inside of her cheek and her eyes scanned over me with an excitement the rest of her hid well.”

Unable to resist, I interjected, “I imagine you were surprised to see her again, _there_ of all places.”

“ _Absolutely!_ ” He said as his brow rose in surprise before an obvious grin overtook his visage, “The number of times I’d wondered whether or not I’d ever see her again were-“ Sentence faltering, I understood the context and nodded once in solidarity.

“but god, was it good to see her again.” A breathy laugh escaped his mouth and he shook his head, smiling fondly. 

 

 

\--- ---

[2185, Sol System month of “November”; Normandy SR-2]

 

 

Shepard’s knuckles rapped lightly on Kasumi’s door.

“Come on in!”

 

As the doors slid open before her, Shepard stepped inside and closed them again.

“Shepard, I was going to leave this in your room, but you decided to drop by, so I’ll give it to you now!” Kasumi said light heartedly.

Shepard’s brow furrowed slightly as she held out her hands to accept the full-screen tablet Kasumi handed her, “It’s a digital photo album. All those pictures and recordings I told you I was taking that didn’t need to be printed so much as they needed to be stored _somewhere_. I’ve made some new memes from these pictures.” She said happily tapping on the screen and pointing at the first picture of a thresher maw with an aggressively shrugging kaomoji above it.

A smile spread to Shepard’s lips and she looked up at the woman before her, “I’m going to miss you, Kasumi Goto.” Shepard said with more sadness in her voice than she’d intended.

“Ohhh, Shepard.” She jokingly admonished, “You _really_ think I’m going to see you go through ship withdrawal while you’re in court for the Alpha Relay case and _not_ take pictures? One hundred and ten percent you’ll see me around.” A wry grin curled one corner of her constantly smiling mouth.

Reaching her arms out toward the commander, Shepard stepped toward her and wrapped her arms firmly around her photographer friend, “The reapers are coming, Kasumi-“ Shepard started, stepping back and looking at her resolutely, “and you’d _better survive_.” She emphasized with narrowed eyes and a tense jaw.

Kasumi reached out to hold Shepard’s hands in her own, “You too, Shepard. You and that stellar turian down the hall. Both of you had better make it out alive.”

Shepard watched as a tear rolled down Kasumi’s shadowed cheek, the smile still miraculously stable on her lips. Pressing her lips together momentarily, Kasumi reached up with one hand and wiped the tears from her eyes before swallowing forcefully and huffing a laugh, “You know…” She started, “The Illusive Man offered me an amount that I probably couldn’t earn in ten jobs, but I’m going to donate it.” Kasumi said letting the grin return to her face, letting go of Shepard’s hands and slowly dropping down onto the couch next to her.

“Where are you going to donate it?” Shepard asked curiously as she sat down across from her.

“I’m going to use it as bribes.” Kasumi said with a shrug.

Shepard’s brow furrowed, “Bribes and donations don’t exactly-“

“I know how these kinds of things work, Shepard.” She started quietly, “Cities and towns panic, the desire to leave is overwhelmingly larger than those who want to stay and fight… but you know who gets left behind? Kids in the foster care program, orphans, kids who just lost their entire family and their dog. If there’s a chopper lifting off to a safer city where they can get transport off planet, the youngest ones aren’t going to have a clue what to do, who to trust, where to go. Adults will be panicking, so you bet those kids are going to panic. I’m going to bribe pilots, chopper, plane, space shuttle, I don’t care who, if I can help _one_ more kid get off of Earth alive, I’ll do it.”

Shepard listened thoughtfully, nodding in reverence, “I take it you’ll be staying on Earth then, no matter how bad it gets?”

“Maybe. I might hop around to other planets, might check in on how other races are doing, what they think of the reaper war going on with the more well established races. Keep tabs on things. Might also snag a really fast car and start transporting people myself.” She said nodding to either shoulder repeatedly.

With an optimism Shepard envied Kasumi said with a quiet, but positive tone, “War opens up a lot of options when it comes to helping out. Just have to find a niche and do it.” Pausing for a moment, she asked, “Have you already gotten orders to return to the Citadel for your trial?”

Shepard shook her head, “I’ll be transported to London.”

Kasumi tilted her head in curiosity, “I’m surprised the batarians would be willing to let you return to Earth.”

Nodding in agreement Shepard sighed, “I expect there will be a lot of back lash from individuals even after the trial is over… but I expect by that time the reapers will have arrived and they’ll be occupied with other things.”

“Mmm…” Kasumi started with uncertainty, “I don’t know about that, Shepard. A lot of them lost absolutely everything in that explosion. I imagine there are a lot of batarians with a new found thirst for revenge.”

Shepard’s upper lip twitched slightly in disgust, “I know…” She softly snarled.

“We all know you did what you had to. Hell, you made sure so many more people survived, but traumatic loss does things to your head.” Kasumi said with a sigh.

Neither of them had much more to say on the topic, so Kasumi leaned forward and took the tablet Shepard had laid next to her, and swiped to one photo in particular before handing it back to her, “I have proof that he _does_ sleep.” She said with a grin.

Shepard looked down at a photo of Mordin, tablet resting on his chest, still lightly grasped between his thumb and pointer finger, head tilted to the side, mouth partially open. Normally, a picture like this would be incredibly creepy, but the person it was of and the context it founded made them both smile fondly. Shepard scooted closer to her and Kasumi curled her legs up next to her on the couch as she rested her weight on one hip, and leaned against Shepard’s shoulder as they flipped through photos and reminisced over how much had happened in the last few months.

 

 

As Shepard prepared to leave, she once again thanked Kasumi for putting together so many beautiful, hilarious, sweet, and awesome photos of ship life and mission time.

“Thank _you_ , Shepard.” Her tone was more meaningful than her words, so she filled in the context, “I wasn’t sure whether or not it was appropriate to tell you this, but now seems as good a time as any.” She started somewhat awkwardly, “Being part of your crew has inspired me, given me back a zeal for life… whether it ends today, months from now, or decades… I’m so thankful I was a part of this.”

Nodding respectfully, Shepard grinned, “It’s been a pleasure having you aboard, Kasumi. You’ve made a lot of people aboard this ship smile when nothing else could. They won’t forget that.”

A pleased smile elongated the grin on Kasumi’s mouth, “Thank you, Shepard.” She said quietly as the commander stepped out of her room.

 

 

\---

 

“Grunt!” Shepard said as the doors slid open.

A slow rumbling ‘heh heh heh’ greeted her as she looked over at the krogan standing proudly by the windows overlooking the cargo bay, “Battle Master Shepard! Today is going to be _great_!” He exclaimed turning to face her and spreading his arms out wide in a display of victory. Pounding one fist into the other, a guttural growl of approval emerged from his chest.

Unintentionally, a broad, adoring smile squinted Shepard’s eyes, “Grunt, you’ve been a fabulous asset to this team, and an enthusiasticly murderous ray of sunshine.”

Clapping both of her hands on his broad shoulders she looked him in his icy blue eyes, “When you come out of this fight on the other side, alive, you’re going to do amazing things for clan Urdnot and I’m so proud of you. You’ve learned a lot in a short amount of time.” Nodding in approval, she leaned forward and pressed her forehead against Grunt’s in a playful authoritative challenge as they’d done several times before.

Grunt offered a quiet snarl that grew into a growl and he pressed his head toward her causing her to stumble backwards like a bear playing gently with a fox. Offering another series of quiet chuckles, he clapped a hand on her shoulder as she straightened and grinned at him proudly, her body rocking to the side at the force of his impact, “When this is over,” Grunt started raising his chin at her, “I’m going to become a battle master myself. I’ll have a team of strong krogan and we’ll kick some _serious_ reaper ass.” He said slamming his fist into his palm again with a solid ‘thud’.

“You better.” Shepard said narrowing her eyes at him, “If I hear anything less out of you, I’m gonna have to come and kick _your_ ass.”

A friendly guffaw erupted from Grunt’s throat before he growled playfully, “I’d like to see you _try_.”

Shepard reached up quickly and hooked her fingers into a plate on the side of his head, “Make me proud, Grunt.” She said, leaning forward and staring at him pointedly again, “For Clan Urdnot!” She said releasing his head forcefully, causing his head to jolt backwards slightly before he raised his fist in the air and cheered with her, “For Shepard! For Urdnot!”

He held a fist towards her and she hit hers against his. A fist bump of solidarity between unintentional mother and battle master and her rowdy ambitious adopted krogan son.


	40. 40. November, Zaeed, Thane, Garrus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Light sexual content.

 

 

Shepard gazed forlornly at her omni tool’s clock. Still a little less than three hours to go.

Zaeed was milling about in his room when Shepard knocked on the door.

“Hey, sweet heart. Come on in.” He replied over his shoulder as he continued sifting through whatever the hell he was doing.

In Zaeed’s presence, but particularly in response to those kinds of greetings, Shepard’s chest held onto a velvety feeling. A soft, pliable, almost gentle kind of rage. One that could smile genuinely as she drove an omni-blade through someone’s chest. The feeling would most likely never accompany the action it desired to partner with, but that strange kind of gentle disgust still warmed her stomach in enmity. Another part of her also hated that in some very strange way Zaeed, despite his volatile and loud mouthed nature, made her feel somewhat safe. Entering his room or any time he approached her was like a cacophony of the damned in her head… like he was some kind of human signal scrambler.

 

“Just wanted to make sure you were ready.” Shepard replied simply without any unnecessary emotion in her tone.

A chuckle emitted from his mouth, “You bet I’m ready.”

“Got any spare parts around in case we need to give you a new arm mid-battle?” She quipped with a small one sided grin.

“Tis but a scratch, Shepard.” He replied immediately laughing at his apparent joke.

When Shepard’s brow furrowed he made a partially disgusted sound, “Monty Python? Oh, _come on_ , Shepard. You don’t even- ugh god… Granted it was _way_ before your time, but honestly. It’s shit like Monty Python that can transcend generations. Fuck it. Never mind.”

Offering a small squint of apology he shrugged, “Eh, whatever. I’m old! Yesterday’s news. Go on, Shepard. I’m ready and I’ll be there when it’s over too.”

Shepard relaxed slightly and motioned toward him, “Hey, thanks for tagging along and putting up with the professional shit on board.”

A casual shrug jolted his shoulders and chest as he glanced away from her, “Been pretty fun. Can’t say I’ll ever forget it. Thanks for having me aboard, Shepard. Maybe I’ll see you around when the reapers start to kick everyone’s asses.”

Nodding at him with a more genuine grin she calmly said, “Maybe so. Good luck, Zaeed.” She said gently as she turned to leave.

“You too, Shepard.” 

 

\---

 

 “Commander Shepard.” The drell at the door greeted her kindly and professionally, as usual.

“Thane.” She replied nodding slightly at him as she walked in and the door closed behind them both, “This might be cliché timing, but I wanted to thank you.” Shepard said quietly turning around to face him as he approached.

“There is nothing to thank me for.” He countered calmly.

Tilting her head to one side briefly, she shrugged, “Maybe from your perspective, but I’ve grown to genuinely respect you and I thought you should know you’ve earned that respect. It wasn’t given lightly.”

Hands behind his back, he nodded slowly, “I would hope for nothing less.”

An awkward pause passed between them before he quickly blinked a few times and stepped closer to her, holding out a hand to shake.

Shepard reached out to oblige the handshake and he clasped his other hand over hers, watching her carefully for a moment, “I’ve wanted to thank you as well, Shepard.” He said quietly, gently releasing her hand and letting it slide out from between his, “You’ve been the only real friend I’ve had in decades, and some of those within your crew I also regard with a fondness, but your company has been…”

Observing him closely, Shepard’s gaze drifted over him, attempting to read his well-concealed body language, “Garrus is in a very fortunate and highly coveted position.” Thane said boldly, looking up and meeting Shepard’s now surprised expression.

“I apologize if that was impetuous of me.” He immediately apologized.

Shepard’s cheeks flushed, and she attempted to wash the deer-in-the-headlights look from her face as she clenched her jaw briefly, “No, I…” She had _absolutely_ no intelligent replies running through her mind at the moment.

She’d never thought of Thane in a romantic sense and it was a bit jarring, but conversations they’d had with one another, the way he attempted to communicate with her… Admittedly, she’d never spent much time attempting to understand him because she had no interest in doing so, but upon re-analysis she recognized the signs and felt a bit foolish for being so blind.

 

 _Say something, Shepard!_ She quietly reprimanded herself.

 

“Well… it’s very sweet of you to say that, and rather brave, although I’d never expect anything less from you. Kindness and bravery seem to be part of your foundation.” She said gently.

He blinked heavily and furrowed his brow slightly, “ _Kindness_ , Shepard?” He asked clearly confused.

It was her turn to blink once more in surprise, “ _Yes?_ Thane, when I first met you I thought you were simply professional, duly respectful because of your profession and training, but watching your interactions with others aboard this ship, listening to how you communicated…” A stuttering inhale interrupted her sentence, she was still nervous from his admission to his coveting her current relationship, “Thane, the only person you’ve ever directly _blamed_ for anything is yourself.” She paused momentarily and gazed at him with heavy consideration, “It’s rather extreme, but I understand where it originated. Just… when I saw how you handled the situation with your son. I wish my own mother could be as intuitive as you were. You realized and were willing to admit you’d made mistakes, and then actively pursued _apologizing_. I know the threat of death can cause us to heavily re-think some choices we’ve made, but even so… I don’t think it unreasonable to say you likely would have done the same thing eventually if Kolyat hadn’t expedited the process.” Shaking her head to keep her from continuing to monologue, she finished quietly, “I’m very thankful to have seen your example. It meant a lot to me to watch that process.”

The expression on his face was pinched in concern and before she could ask if he was alright, tears fell from his eyes and he blinked rapidly, looking away from her, “Thank you, Shepard.” He whispered.

Shepard had always been rather uncomfortable with hugging men, except for the few she’d genuinely come to love either as friends or as lovers, id est, Joker and Garrus, but she calmly took a step toward him and offered her arms toward him.

Looking back up at her with a distressed expression, he attempted to process her offer for a moment before accepting with calm dignity followed shortly by a poignant urgency. Wrapping his arms firmly around her torso, and pressing his mouth into her shoulder as if to keep himself from falling into sobs, he swallowed heavily, attempting to calm the first physically overwhelming emotion he’d felt in a while.

Part of her wished she knew what was running through his head then, and if she was actually helping or making things worse. Admittedly, Shepard was still rather uncomfortable and somewhat regretted this course of action, but Thane’s life had been completely devoid of anyone caring about him for so long, there was a kind of desperation in his hug, a firm longing for personal connection that hadn’t come to fruition in any attempts at kindling his relationship with her. She sincerely wished she could sit down with him and make sure he knew people cared for him, that _she_ genuinely did care about him, but it would be far too messy, even for the level-headed adults that they were.

He was a very lonely man who had a lot of guilt, desperation, and torment to handle mentally. Could she have helped him? Probably. However, it would be nigh on _impossible_ for her to ever banish the thought that any relationship with him _wouldn’t_ have been spurred on out of guilt or pity. Undoubtedly he was chained, in some aspects, to his emotions despite outwardly showing so few. It was fairly obvious to her that a romantic relationship _wouldn’t_ help him with those problems. As much as she wished it weren’t true, depression was never _cured_ by love…

Regardless of her discomfort in this particular scenario, feeling somewhat trapped between wanting to help and knowing she couldn’t, Shepard whispered quietly, “You’re going to be a great father with the time you have left and we’re all proud of you.” As she ran her hand slightly over his back in a comforting gesture.

She felt his jaw tense and decided to stop talking, as saying more at the moment likely make this more difficult for him.  He took a deep breath and pulled back, releasing it slowly, loosing his hold on her, allowing her to step back once more to a conversational distance. Swallowing forcefully, he met her gaze with a tense one of his own, “I will be ready when we attack the collector base…” Pausing his dark eyes scanned her face for a moment before he reached up to wipe the tears from his cheeks, “ _Thank you_ , Shepard.” He said humbly, bowing his head in respect of her.

“Stay safe, Thane.” She said tilting her head slightly and fixing him with a contemplative but caring expression.

He watched her with sad eyes as she turned slowly and left his room without a glance back. 

 

\---

 

Returning to the CIC, Shepard felt every eye turn to her. Sighing forcefully, she stepped up to the galaxy map. They still had a few hours to go, but her legs wouldn’t let her stay still. She wanted to talk to everyone, which was extremely uncharacteristic of her. Her brain wanted her to do lunges around the room, arms at perfect 90˚ angles, she felt like she wanted to eat about seven different things in the fridge just then, and part of her just wanted to take a nap. Somehow it felt like nothing at all on the ship was moving while her timeline ticked by far too quickly.

“Please confirm destination, Shepard.” EDI’s voice calmly interrupted her thoughts. “The Reaper IFF is online but there is a chance the Normandy may not survive the Omega 4 Relay. Once we are on route, we are committed.”

In her best efforts to lighten the mood, Shepard spoke on comms knowing everyone else had heard EDI’s suggestion overhead, “Anyone want to hitch a ride to Omega before we do this?”

Everyone in the CIC chuckled nervously and she hoped everyone else in the lower decks did too. A flash of images passed through her mind’s eye. Garrus working at his console, refusing to look up, but quirking a grin at her ridiculous question. Tali shaking her head with an amused huff. Kasumi whispering softly, “With you till the end, Shepard.”. Zaeed scoffing quietly to himself before saying “Eh, may as well die here where they can identify the body.”. Grunt slamming one fist into the palm of the other and giving her a war cry of incredible constitution. Samara sighing peacefully. Thane clasping his hands a bit tighter, praying a bit more fervently. Jack snorting and leaning back with arms crossed on her cot. Miranda glancing at her door with a pleasant authoritative expression. Jacob furrowing his brow and saluting the intercom, and Mordin, humming a quiet tune to himself.

 

The images resonated in her mind in harmony until a beautiful resounding cacophony of, “We’re here for you, Shepard. Let’s go kick ass.” Was stated resolutely by the unseen choir.

 

Taking a deep breath, Shepard replied, “The Collectors _took my people_. It’s time to go get them _back_.”

“You got it, commander.” Joker replied business casual, “Continuing route for the Omega 4 Relay. ETA about two hours. I’ll let you know when we arrive.”

 

Nodding, she stared down at the galaxy map, watching the image of the ship angled toward their objective. While waiting for shorter missions, she would habitually spend several minutes at a time staring at the hologram, observing the flight path, watching as the ship drew closer and closer to what could be her and her crew’s last mission… but for some reason this was different. Gazing at the icon of the ship made her stomach tighten, and she began chewing the inside of her cheek. It wasn’t peaceful, nor was it allowing her to be lost in aimless thought as they approached their objective. Her back was tense, her hands gripped the railing until white knuckled, brow creased in anger and heavy thought.

Taking a deep breath, she released her grip on the railing and stepped backwards down the steps, before turning sluggishly and slamming her palm inelegantly against the button for the elevator. Her energy seemed to seep out of her, pouring out onto the floor like a snail’s trail, but she kept her back straight, and her head level. Her mind was still buzzing with uncertainty, and distraction let her hand rest against the console within the elevator, taking her slowly toward her room.

 

 

 

The elevator descended, carrying her foggy mind and largely unfocused and limp form downwards. Her eyes snapped at the console in surprise as confusion finally rooted in her brain. Why was she going  _down_ _?_  

 

The elevator stopped on the Crew Deck, doors sliding open to reveal Garrus in a slightly more formal outfit. Stepping in beside her, he immediately closed the doors and grinned calmly down at her, “Would you like to join me for drinks?” He asked holding up the bottle of alcohol he’d brought with him.

Warmth spread through her spine and she grinned kindly up at him, “I’d love to.”

Fully willing to let him choose the elevator's destination due to her inability to combat her habitual button pressing at the moment, they now rode upwards towards her room. Stepping into the dim blue glow of the fish tanks, Shepard found herself smiling slightly, unable to ignore the vibrancy that had already restored her murky mental processes and aloof expression.

Garrus set the bottle down on the ledge of the fish tanks before turning around and opening his arms toward her. Without hesitation she stepped toward him and collided forcefully with his chest, knocking him back a step. Standing in near-complete silence with one another, he dipped his head to rest atop hers and held her tightly as she wrapped her arms as far around him as she could and attempted to quell the desire to cry amidst all the other things her brain senselessly felt like doing to calm her nerves.   

 

-

 

Allowing the silence to wrap them both in a comforting kind of solidarity, Garrus kept his breathing slow, so slow, he began to feel tired as he stood with her.

Yesterday, he’d expected there might be a kind of desperation between the two of them, a more passionate longing for connection with one another, but standing with her now... moving away from the proximity didn't sound particularly enticing. Years ago, he would have enjoyed the evening with friends or privately with one intimate acquaintance without question. Yet, here he stood before a mission that would more than likely mean the death of either or both of them, and possibly several others if not everyone else aboard this ship… and all he wanted to do was _hold_ her.

 

There were certain _feelings_ people seemed to carry around with them. Some were peace, compassion, strength, brutality, analytical intelligence, etcetera, but Shepard exuded _finality_. There wasn’t an overwhelming sense of peace or foreboding. All you knew was that _something_ was going to happen and when it did, she was the cliff’s edge, the place everything could jump from to kick into motion. Stepping up with Shepard wasn’t a casual process. You either jumped, or you didn’t, and regardless what was at the bottom of that cliff, she’d be down there with you.

 

 _Finality_. 

 

 

He felt her head tilt upwards slightly and she placed a tear soaked kiss on his neck. Closing his eyes tightly upon realizing she’d been silently crying, he opened his eyes again and pulled back to look at her. She looked disappointed with herself and in an attempt to restrain herself she sniffed once, ran her tongue over her teeth to clear away the tear-thickened saliva, swallowing forcefully, and stared up at him with a resolute expression.

Reaching up slowly, he wiped a thumb against her cheek, clearing away the tears that continued to fall in silence, “Me too.” He said with a small grin and her face lit up in a forlorn-laughing smile.

 

 

 _Good_.

 

 

Glancing over at the bottle he’d brought with him, he reached over to take it as she forced herself to grin past the wreck of emotions in her brain and went to fetch species-advantageous glasses, setting them on the coffee table as they both sank down onto the couch. Leaning over to work the screw into the cork, Shepard poured some into each, and they took their respective glasses.

 

“I put in a line with Liara.” Garrus started quietly as he took a sip, “Figured if something happens to the Normandy on our way through the Omega 4 Relay, even if they can’t get through immediately, having someone out here know what’s happened sounded like a good idea. Had EDI fill her in on some details too.”

Shepard nodded, allowing the alcohol to burn her mouth for a moment before swallowing and answering slowly, “Thank you... I had that on a list of things to do and then somehow managed to forget.”

He grinned before quietly reassuring, “I figured you had a lot on your mind.” Pausing momentarily, he held an arm out along the edge of the couch and she scooted against him, curling her legs up next to her as she leaned against his side, “Liara said she wished us all the love and luck in the galaxy. Which, you know… I’m sure the Shadow Broker has legal rights to luck and love in the galaxy somehow. So, maybe when we get out of this, we’ll all get a nice little credit bonus.”

Shepard chuckled as she raised her glass to her lips, her voice sounding somewhat muffled from within the bell of the glass, “I wonder if she’ll ever tell us more about how she does her job.”

“Doubtful.” He replied with a single-shouldered-shrug.

 

 

A moment of silence passed between them before his thoughts got the better of him, “Shepard.” He started slowly.

She turned her head to look up at him slightly before returning her gaze to the table, resigning to comfortably listening without eye contact, “When I told you about… well, your _death_. I said I could really do without ever going through that again.” Pausing briefly he motioned toward her with his glass slightly, “Which is true… but you know, I’ve realized I’d do it all again. Especially now.” He said tilting his head momentarily to one side, “If something goes horribly wrong, I _want_ _to be there_.” Brow furrowing slightly he took a drink and sighed heavily before looking down at her.

Processing what he'd said for a moment, she stared pointedly at the table. Calmly, she stood from her seat, gently taking the glass from his hand and setting both goblets on the table before situating herself beside him, leaning over his legs, her fist sinking slightly into the cushion to hold her upright, and looking up at him directly, “You’re my first pick.” She said slowly, gazing at him thoughtfully.

His hands rose to her sides and she said quietly, gazing at him with an intensity born of fear and a fire born of determination, “You don’t get the option to stay behind and learn about my death later... and in the case of my death, you have my permission to take my place. Take the Normandy. Boot out Cerberus, and kick the reapers’ asses.”

“Shepard…” Hesitation squinted his eyes in admonition, “I can’t just _take_ the Normandy.”

Sliding off his lap, Shepard watched with some amusement as desperation shone in his eyes while she stepped away from him. He rose to follow her as she grabbed something from the bottom drawer of a bedside table and flopped down onto the mattress. Curious, he slowly sat down across from her on the bed, crossing his legs comfortably and leaning forward casually.

Snatching up the Alliance issued recording device, she turned it on and said resolutely, staring straight at him, “The Normandy is the legacy of both turian and human innovation. In the case of my death, Commander Shepard, my next in line for command is to be the turian Garrus Vakarian. Consider this my legal acknowledgement of succession.” The device made a light click sound as she stopped the recording and he watched as it sailed past him onto the couch where they were previously seated.

“Pretty sure that isn’t going to hold up in a court, Shepard.” He commented with amusement, “You don’t technically have any rights associated with _this_ Normandy. It’s Cerberus’s property.”

“Mmm… I think it might be _Joker’s_ property at this point.” She replied with a quirk of a grin.

 

 

Both of them stared at one another with a somewhat distant expression, forlorn, and somehow desperate, “Shepard.” Garrus started slowly, tilting his head partially to one side.

“Hm?” She questioned, raising her chin in recognition.

“Do me a favor and never say the word ‘Cerberus’ again when we’re alone together in a bedroom because if the reapers and the Collectors aren’t enough of a mood killer …” He mentioned with a small quirk of a grin crinkling his eyes.

An almost embarrassed laughing smile spread across her visage. Tilting her head back and lifting her arms up before falling back onto the pillows she said with a contented sigh, “I promise.”

Playfully, he uncrossed his legs and straddled her waist, resting his hands lightly on either side of her rib cage, “’Mm-kay. Thanks.” He said as he dropped his face onto her chest.

She started chuckling, bouncing his head as it rested on her sternum, “I might need the occasional reminder.” She prompted, still amused with how he looked at the moment.

“Reminder?!” He asked startled, sitting upright in shock, “How in the world am I supposed to remind you that- Oh… Shepard… _No…_ ” Realization sank slowly down his spine, “I am not turning that into a kinky word by punishing you for saying it. No.”

She rolled her eyes dramatically, “Well great, because that is _not_ what I meant.” A bark of a laugh escaped her chest then as she more fully processed what he’d said, “Has someone ever seriously done that to you? Asked you to “punish” them?”

“Ah… _yes_.” He mumbled begrudgingly.

A light hearted squeak of a laugh emitted from her throat, “Okay, you _have_ to tell me the story.”

“Shepard…” Pleading quietly, his shoulders drooped, “Look, this is likely the last hour and a half we’ll have alone together for a while and we really haven’t been on a roll when it comes to mutually enjoying the conversation trails…”

Realization and apology took Shepard’s previously delighted expression and some part of him felt a little sore for having snuffed it, “Sorry.” He said gently as he reached up to place a hand on the side of her face in quiet apology and admiration.

“Not your fault.” She said looking up at him with a small smile returning to her expression, “Well then, what do we want to do with the next hour and a half?” Prompting him with a polite grin, she wasn’t suggesting anything in particular, but both of them likely thought of the same thing.

He sat above her, her hands on his thighs, his hands braced against the mattress. Serious contemplation furrowed his brow before he spoke slowly, holding her gaze within his own, “I want to make you happy.” A part of him felt confused as he spoke. He wasn’t even entirely certain what that was supposed to mean.

So rarely had he observed her laughing, carefree, the philosophical topics that swirled within her brain almost always held a place in her eyes, the weight of the entire galaxy resting on her shoulders.

 

 

 _I want to make you happy_.

 

 

The phrase repeated itself in his mind as he stared down at her, but the reality of _how_ to do that exactly eluded him. Perhaps once upon a time they’d both been convinced adventure, sex, drinking challenges, martial arts, etcetera were somewhat fulfilling. Fleeting entertainment was happiness after all.

 

 

 _Joy_.

 

 

Happiness was the pursuit of self-determinate desires, whether self-seeking or subservient. _Joy_ on the other hand seemed to originate somewhere else. It wasn’t something you could create, it was a gift. Something given to you by something or someone you never fully understood. He’d never really considered the weight of what he’d just said, but there was undeniable truth in its utterance.

 

“You can’t _make_ me happy, Garrus.” She said quietly, causing his brow to furrow to an expression of confusion and a slight panic, “That’s not your job,” Continuing, her voice was gentle, content, “and if I look to you as my source of happiness, there will be a day, or several, or more, in which I can’t find it because people have never and will never be the source of happiness. What we can do is things like this.” Her hand motioned up toward him, and then spread out to indicate the room and the current environment, “I can tell you this, having you around already makes me happier than I would be without you and you didn’t even have to try.”

 

 

 _She… is… happy?_ He asked himself slowly.

 

 

Watching her expression, despite the pain, the dread, the fear… there was something he felt more than saw, but he believed her. It was more than _hope_.

Upon agreeing to this relationship Shepard had prompted, Garrus had told himself over and over he couldn’t fall in love with her. There were too many unknowns, and the pain of losing someone he cared about deeply, let alone _loved_ …

Looking away from her briefly, he scrutinized the mattress beside her, searching for answers, already realizing his mind had betrayed him. Disobeyed direct orders, as it were.

Shepard reached up with both hands to hold his face, and he wrapped one arm around her back to hold her up slightly, “I _am_ happy.” She said quietly as she maintained eye contact with him, “and even if it goes away soon that doesn’t mean it wasn’t worth going all in for the opportunity to get to tell you ‘thank you’.”

His jaw flexed slightly and he coughed a quiet laugh, “Spirits, you really can be sappy.” A calm smile spread across his visage as he watched the corner of her eyes wrinkle in a grin.

She laughed, and he tilted his head slightly to kiss her. One lead to several and he laid her back down again, supporting himself over her. Pulling away slightly, he looked at her with a renewed light in his eyes, “You know, someday, when we survive all of this… I might write a book or start a podcast and I’m going to tell all these _fascinating_ short-stories about you when we’re alone and no one is going to believe me-“ He whispered with a smirk and she rolled her eyes again before pulling his mouth against hers.

Unable to resist chuckling, he wrapped his arms beneath her in a loose hug before supporting her head and lifting her upwards as he flopped over onto his back, feet now braced against the headboard as her torso rested between his legs.

A wicked light shone in her eyes and she tilted her head, “How much detail are these stories going to have?” She asked, raising her chin, removing her shirt and bra before urging him to follow suit.

“Well, you see, that’s highly dependent on-“

Shepard pushed off of him slightly and scooted down until her cheek rested against his dick, “Dependent on…“ She prompted, lightly running her nose and soft cheek over the tip and shaft.

He had an idea of what to say before the little stunt she’d just pulled, but much to his chagrin, he was completely robbed of sass and left to lie in an infectious state of arousal. A laughed huff escaped his mouth as he watched her and she grinned omnipotently, clearly able to discern her thievery was successful.

“Well,” She started as she placed a series of lightly wet kisses on his abdomen, “If I start a book, I’ll most definitely include a quantitative report for all the times _I_ succeeded in leaving _Archangel_ completely speechless.”

 


	41. 41. November, Garrus, Initiate Attack

 

[Interview; Subject: Garrus Vakarian; late year 2189 CE, 3 years post Reaper Destruction.]

 

 

He chuckled lightly, “God, I swear it was one of the cheesiest things I’d ever heard her say. As nerdy as you can get in the bedroom. Neither of us were particularly talented at sounding sexy by the normal definition. We were fumbling around in the dark when it came to sweet talk, but it was always somehow comfortable. Something about our mutual awkwardness was… _warm_. If that makes sense.” Nodding he reiterated the scenario he’d just described with a looping gesture of his hand to indicate he was referencing the sentence that previously made us both laugh, “It was always something like that.”

Another chuckle shook his shoulders slightly, “If you’re ever in a scenario where you’re about to have sex, and your partner throws in the word ‘quantitative’ to the alluring chatter…” His eyes wrinkled and his mouth opened in a momentary guffaw before he brought his hands to his face and rubbed them over the surface as he took a deep breath, “Spirits, I love that woman. We really did try, but whatever omniscience created us did not gift us with verbal fluidity.”

I hesitated somewhat, unsure whether or not I wanted to breach the subject but I tried anyway, “You believe in a god?”

“A god, plural gods, not even a god… just a more of an intelligent “higher power” if you will?” He asked motioning forward, palm up, with both hands, “I don’t really know. Shepard and I talked about it a long time ago, and we said if things ever quieted down we’d try to tackle the next biggest mystery in the galaxy, and I guess this is it.” Shaking his head, he furrowed his brow slightly, gazing down at the table between us.

“Have you found any answers?” I asked curious.

A small huff of a laugh escaped his chest, “Yes… and no. It’s been interesting. Neither Shepard nor I grew up with any kind of religious influence, but we did mature around people adept in sciences, born of people with very analytical minds… So, I suppose neither of us were happy with pursuing any set belief until we met people within who were open minded enough to accept that there was always the slight possibility they were wrong.” He winced slightly at his sentence, “I don’t mean that to say I’ve walked into synagogues, mosques, churches, masses, temples, hovels, or any other word you can think of to mean basically the same thing… and challenged them all like ‘admit to me you could be wrong or I dismiss your belief!’. That’s not the goal.” He opened his mouth slightly in reminiscence of a non-violent snarl of disapproval.

Motioning toward me with one hand he nodded slightly to the side and continued, “There’s a lot of science to indicate the existence of a very general _higher power_ , and a lot to say there is nothing but physics and chemistry. I suppose if you’re going to start anywhere, you should at least figure out whether or not you believe _anything_ regarding a higher intelligence might exist.”

“Sir, I have to say-“ I interjected, squinting at him in curiosity, “You’re approaching the topic of religion from a very strange stand point.”

“How is that?” He asked calmly.

Jutting my chin out ever so slightly as a strange kind of nod toward him, as he was seated across from me, I mentioned, “I know people from generations ago usually based faith off of tradition and or culture, and a lot of decisions made about whatever god, gods, or goddesses they served were based on emotions, yet you’re approaching this all from a scientific standpoint. What attracted you to this approach?”

A deep breath expanded his chest, and he looked away from me slightly, “My knee-jerk reaction is to say science is the most logical way to decide anything, but I don’t think that’s necessarily true. I’m also aware of a strange disconnect between many religions and science, and the separation of the two also seems quite strange to me.”

“How so?” I prompted conversationally.

“The most well-known religions are typically founded on the belief that _something_ created _something else_. I don’t see how it could be possible to remove science from that process.” A sigh escaped his nose, “I would love to speak with you on these topics in private another time, but I’m sure this isn’t exactly what your listeners are interested in.”

“ _Your_ listeners.” I corrected with a chuckle, “Very well.” Nodding I agreed to change the subject, “Forgive the very abrupt change in subject,” I began, squinting almost malevolently at the notepad in my lap…

The question I was about to ask had pen dots next to it from the number of times I’d absent mindedly tapped the tip of my pen next to the question, wondering when might be appropriate to ask… It never was. I decided to just blurt it out, “What do you think is the likelihood that the commander is still alive?”

 

 

\--- ---

[2185, Sol System month of “November”; Normandy SR-2]

 

 

The hologram appeared and The Illusive Man whirled around far more quickly than he usually did, “Shepard, I wish I had more information for you. I don’t like you heading through that relay blind, but we don’t have much choice.”

 

He was nervous too.

 

Shepard nodded, “I’ve got some of the best with me, and you’ve prepared us well with the IFF. We’ll make it.” she said raising her chin and motioning toward him, giving thanks where thanks were due.

“I knew we brought you back for a reason.” He said motioning toward her with his cigarette butt, “I’ve never seen a better leader. Despite the danger it’s a great opportunity. The first human to take a ship through… and _survive_.”

The urge to roll her eyes was growing, so she narrowed them instead. God _damn_ she hated flattery. Any form of it. Flirting from anyone but the one person she was ever interested in at a time… and even a few of those she’d hated listening to any form of admiration.

“Listen…” Shepard started, “I have the feeling we’re going to get there, somehow manage to get control of the ship and then something oh so tempting about us being aboard that vessel is going to peak your interest.” Holding out a hand to silently stop him from defending himself she said, “Your track record has shown you’re a fan of springing ‘but wait! It’s valuable!’ on me…” She said with a tv-personality voice as if she were selling something, “When I get the chance, I’m blowing that facility to kingdom come. The collectors will be _destroyed_ and that’s the end of it. Humanity isn’t going to benefit from whatever-the-disgusting-hell we find in there.”

The Illusive Man narrowed his eyes slightly at her, and remained uncharacteristically silent. Briefly, Shepard wondered if it was the first time anyone had so openly used his own behavioral patterns back on him as he’d been doing so consistently to everyone else since… probably his birth… or hatching day, or whatever the hell brought him into the world.

Finally he nodded and silently dismissed her warning, “I just wanted you to know, I appreciate the risk you’re taking. Regardless of your opinion of Cerberus. Of me. You are a valuable asset. To all of humanity. Be careful, Shepard.”

 

The vid-call ended and Shepard stepped out of the room, feet instantly jumping to a stable position, fists clenched and brought up to a defensive position in front of her face as she unexpectedly encountered Garrus leaning with arms and ankles crossed against the wall next to the door.

He grinned at her amused as she relaxed and chuckled at her typical startled response of _**punch**_ **_the thing_** , “You good?” His hand clapped Shepard on the shoulder in camaraderie.

“Yeah.” She replied with a grin, adrenaline now refusing to let her be nervous about the upcoming scenario… She was ready to go, regardless of the outcome.

Together they walked to the CIC as Joker announced, “Approaching the Omega 4 Relay… Everyone stand by.” Stepping just into the small room, they both crossed their arms and stared out the window, observing the ominous copper glow of the relay before them.

“Let’s make it happen.” Shepard whispered somewhat to herself, and partially as an encouragement to Joker.

“Reaper IFF activated. Signal acknowledged.” EDI stated calmly.

“Commander, the drive core just lit up like a Christmas tree.” Jacob announced through her comms.

“Drive core electrical charge at critical levels.” Shepard attempted to ignore her brain as it interpreted EDI’s voice as being nervous about the scenario she’d just announced.

“Rerouting!” Joker acknowledged as his hands flew over the holograms Shepard could never understand.

Shepard grasped the side of Joker’s chair as she felt the pull of the massive red relay now alongside the ship. Leaning forward, Shepard kept her focus on the stats she could understand on Joker’s display.

“Brace for deceleration!” EDI announced.

Shepard’s grip increased on the side of Joker’s chair as the mass of splintered ships before them suddenly appeared and Joker began to work his magic as Shepard’s eyes shifted nearly frantically around her, and her jaw clenched nearly as tightly as her hands.

Expertly, Joker and EDI navigated the sleek bodied Normandy through and above the central column of wreckage. Emerging from the corpses of crew and ship alike from centuries ago, Joker eased off the engines’ thrust and the Normandy stabilized, gliding silently above the turmoil below them. For a very brief moment Shepard allowed herself to acknowledge the beauty in the duality between wreckage and clear skies that stretched before them toward the system’s main star.

“Some of these ships look _ancient_.” Joker commented as they all silently wondered just _how many_ had attempted to make the trip.

“I have detected an energy signature near the edge of the accretion disk.” EDI interjected.

“Let’s hope that signature is coming from the Collector base.” Shepard said with a sigh, “Take us in for a closer look.” She commented toward Joker.

Drawing closer, EDI announced gently, “Careful, Jeff… We have company.”

Shepard’s eyes flicked towards EDI’s hologram, desperately attempting to ignore how she’d called him _Jeff_ instead of “Mr. Moreau.”

The sound of laser fire instantly made that train of thought easy to ignore as she was, once again, forced to hold on to the side of Joker’s chair as he began evasive maneuvers.

“What the hell is on us?” She asked startled that anything would be living out here… until her panicked brain finally realized the Collectors, or reapers, probably installed security measures… and were most likely a large part of the reason why no other ships remained in-tact.

“Okay, _now_ they’re just pissing me off!” Joker announced with a snarl, “EDI! Take these bastards out!”

A mental checklist ran through Shepard’s head of all the new installations they’d gained while taking their little pit-stop at the anonymous Cerberus base.

 

 

_That plating had better fucking hold_. She swore silently.

 

 

Joker was clearly equally frustrated, stressed, and entertained by the fight he and EDI were currently engaged in with the collector’s defenses, but the entire ship rocked forcefully as something hit the underbelly.

“Alert! Hull breach on the engineering deck!” EDI announced.

“It’s in the cargo hold…” Joker commented with an annoyed tone.

Shepard was already bouncing on one foot in the opposite direction, “I’ll take a team and deal with it. You deal with everything else.” Her voice already fading, her and Garrus’s boots colliding with the metal floor as they ran toward the elevator.

“Tali! I need you in the cargo bay immediately!” Shepard called out through comms as they rode down.

The doors opened briefly as she slid into the elevator, already equipping her defense and offensive drones. Shepard and Garrus attached their helmets and activated their mag boots expecting a heavy pull from the vacuum just outside the hole that had been torn through the ship’s hull.

Shepard looked around for what had made it in, but the size of the hole in the ship was rather worrisome. The giant floating dislocated eyeball of death rose from amid the various devices and containers within the room.

“Hey, at least they’ve made it pretty damn obvious where their weakest point is!” Garrus mentioned as he hefted the rocket launcher Shepard had gifted him aboard the Shadow Broker’s ship and slapped its side in glee, “Finally get to use this baby.”

The massive eye of death that Shepard instantly nicknamed Sauron to go with the ‘evil guy’s name starts with S’ theme she and Garrus had started so long ago, didn’t pay any attention to Tali’s drones, let alone Tali, or Garrus. Much to her annoyance… and canonically in line with the nickname Sauron, the fucking thing just followed _her_.

“You left your stupid ring in another parallel dimension!” She yelled furiously as she attempted to whittle down the massive bulk’s armor with her automatic pistol while Garrus happily fired missile after missile into it.

Despite her instant hatred at this thing’s sheer power and attachment to _her_ alone, she couldn’t help but hear Kasumi’s voice in her ear singing with childish glee, ‘ _they’re taking the hobbits to Isengard! To Isengard! TO ISENGARD!’_

Shepard hefted her massive sniper rifle and shot straight into its glowing red iris, causing it to turn and flee.

“We’re sitting ducks out here. I have to try and lose them in the debris field!” Joker chimed in over comms.

Realizing there was no arguing, Shepard turned her attention toward the massive breach and wondered aloud, “How are we not being…”

“Pulled into space?” Tali questioned as the three companions stared mesmerized at the busted metal.

 

“Our kinetic barriers are not designed to survive impact with debris of that size, Jeff…”

 

“… _Kinetic barriers!_ ” Garrus turned his head to look at his companions with an all-knowing expression.

 

“Well then I guess it’s a good thing we upgraded.” Joker commented.

 

Garrus turned toward his companions, “The kinetic barriers,” He collapsed his missile launcher and reattached it to his back while speaking with an _‘well of course’_ tone, “keep the living things in and the vacuuming things out.” Emphasizing his speech with a sweeping motion of his hand as he gestured toward the gaping hole across the room from them.

He couldn’t see Tali’s face, but the way both she and Shepard were looking at him, he was completely positive they were shooting him the same playfully unamused expression.

Their unamused expressions were quickly replaced with startled ones as the ship collided with several large pieces of debris and the three companions were thrown against containers and onto the ground several times.

 

“Come on, find some room!” Joker commented to himself, the ship, EDI, Fate itself…

“Kinetic barriers at 40 percent.” EDI offered helpfully.

“Reroute non-critical power! This is gonna hurt!” Joker finally announced.

 

Shepard’s iron grip on the railing of a very heavy and thankfully magnetized container held her in place as the rest of her body slid helplessly along the floor as Joker took his last rise through the debris.

 

“Damage report.” She finally heard him say as the ship steadied and the three still in the cargo bay righted themselves.

“Kinetic barriers steady at 30 percent. No significant damage.” EDI calmly relayed.

“Take the helm, EDI, and keep it slow. See if we can avoid any more attention.”

 

Shepard’s eyes widened and she noticed Garrus’s do the same, “Did he just tell EDI to take over?” Garrus asked, completely aghast.

“He can’t deny it.” Tali said as she pressed her hands against her back, rubbing against where her spine had slammed into something unpleasant, “We’re all witnesses.”

 

“I have detected an enemy heading for the cargo hold.” EDI announced moments later as the sound of a laser cutting through another portion of the ship made Shepard’s teeth grind in discomfort.

 

“Couldn’t use the same hole ya burned through my ship earlier, huh?” She asked annoyed as the three of them once again readied their weapons. 

 

With incredible discomfort Shepard soon found herself shooting _vertically_ into Sauron as it flew directly over her and stared at her with about ten feet of distance.

“Hey! Back off! That’s my girlfriend!” Garrus yelled jokingly at Sauron into comms as Shepard just held down the trigger on her machine pistol.

“It’s really damaged Shepard. Reposition!” Tali called out with a frantic tone, “Shepard! Take cover!”

Shepard stopped shooting and focused entirely on running as quickly away from Sauron as possible, “I _really_ hope these armored containers of what look to be highly flammable liquid _aren’t_ actually that!” She called into her comm as Sauron began to glow before exploding in a massive red and white fireball.

 

“Good news.” Garrus commented when the ringing in their ears died down slightly from the explosion, “Even though these _are_ full of highly flammable gas that are very prone to explosion under the correct circumstances… They _didn’t_ explode.” He quipped.

Regardless, Shepard edged away from the container she’d taken cover behind, “Mkay, yeah, I have new ideas for ship re-design. What are these even _for_?” She asked motioning toward them with both hands.

 

“Those are mine.” Zaeed answered through comms, “Gonna use ‘em to blow that bastard to the next cosmos… used up all the funds Cerberus is gonna give me on ‘em, so keep those containers in tact would you?”

Shepard knew exactly who he was referring to and rolled her eyes, “I’m not letting you take these unless you promise there won’t be any civilians involved.”

“No promises, love.”

 

Tali and Shepard exchanged annoyed head tilts as Joker calmly interjected, “Better head back up here, Commander. We’re about to clear the debris field.”

 

Shepard, Tali, and Garrus nodded and ambled a bit more casually toward the elevator, “Well that was a nice warm up.” The commander offered with a genuine smile on her face as the elevator doors closed and she removed her helmet.

“The waiting was _killing me_.” Tali said with an annoyed drawl.

All three silently agreed, pleasantly cheered up by the fight they’d just endured… despite the circumstances. 

 

 

 

 

“That must be the collector base.” Garrus commented as the three of them approached Joker’s chair, eyes focused outside the window.

“Let’s see if we can find a place to land without drawing too much attention to ourselves.” Shepard commented quietly to Joker.

“Ugh… Too late.” Joker replied with a slight sigh, “Looks like they’re sending out an old friend to greet us.”

 

Shepard’s breath exited her nose in one large huff as a sound she’d heard over and over in her dreams rang in her head. Without realizing it, her head started shaking in a ‘no’ gesture as she took a step back. Panic began to grip her chest, squeezing her hands as if trying to break them.

Garrus stepped up behind her, resting his hands on her shoulders. Gently, he turned her around, forcing her to look away from the ship outside their windows and up at his eyes instead, “Remember those guns I told you about?” Garrus questioned calmly, keeping her attention on him.

She realized what he was trying to do and attempted to engage in quiet conversation with him, “Thannix cannons right?” Swallowing heavily she attempted to steady her panicked breathing.

 

 

_You’re okay… We have better defenses. We can see them coming. We have better guns. I’m not going to lose everyone again. We’re going to be fine._

 

 

“That’s right.” He said gently, keeping her as focused on him as possible, “You know where the turian military got that tech?”

She hadn’t noticed, but her nails were digging into a joint on his armor, “Sovereign?” She questioned aloud despite knowing the answer.

 

 

_I’m **not** going to lose everyone again. We can fight it this time… Breathe Shepard… Breathe. You’re okay. You have air. The ship hasn’t been destroyed. Joker’s still in his seat, flying the Normandy as dutifully as always. Garrus is right in front of me. Hands. He’s holding me upright. My fingers are in the joints of his armor. Don’t glaze over. Pay attention. He’s saying something. You’re okay… Breathe._

 

 

“A couple shots head on from a modified reaper cannon is going to tear right through that ship. You just stand here with me and let EDI and Joker handle this alright?” He spoke calmly, gently, but panic struck the back of his mind like a tiny hammer. Memories of the ship being torn apart, racing for the pods, listening to her suffocate and burn as she descended to the planet below… It was pretty clear he’d never forget those sounds, but he was pretty damn sure the experience was worse for _her_.

Truth was, talking with her like this, keeping his attention on helping her, simultaneously helped him. They’d experienced these things so many times, but now they had someone to stand with, someone who knew _exactly_ what was wrong.

 

He hadn’t thought of anything else to say for a few seconds and the anxiety in Shepard’s face was apparent as his gaze unintentionally shifted from hers toward the Collector ship before them just as the interior of the ship lit up in gold from the blast of the opposition. Shepard’s hands leapt toward another part of his armor in a startled panic and he immediately returned his gaze to her own, leaning his head closer to hers.

Instead of holding her shoulders to keep her steady, he raised his hands to her face and held it still, lowering his head until just about all she could see was his face, “Just a few more seconds.” He said quietly as the ship jolted and their own canons fired back.

 

“Woo! Hoo!” Joker called out in excitement as their canons struck solidly into the golden eye of the collector ship, “How do you like _that_ you sons of bitches?!” Joker emphasized by raising both hands in excitement, “Everybody hold on! It’s gonna be a wild ride.” He commented as the Collector ship apparently prepared another attack.

 

Shepard was smiling now and her hands were locked on Garrus’s wrists as he grinned back at her. Nodding she opened her eyes to look at him again and he knew she was in a stable mindset. Offering a nod in return, he released his hold on her face and they both oriented their attention toward the golden laser of so many terrible memories and sleepless nights.

 

“Give ‘em hell, girl.” Joker encouraged the Normandy as he slammed his fist down on the console to fire the cannons toward the collector ship once more.

 

Thankful she’d regained enough focus to turn around and watch the fight again, Shepard enthusiastically cheered as the cannons ripped through the collector ship, completely incapacitating it. Swears of hatred and happiness were flowing from her mouth in equal measure as they flew over the exploding wreckage. She reached around Joker’s chair and shook his shoulders in congratulations and he grinned open mouthed, highly enthusiastic about her rejoicing.

 

 

“Look out!” Tali shouted as the drive core and main batteries within the collector ship ignited and ejected flaming debris toward the Normandy.

“Mass effect field generators are offline! EDI! Give me _something_!” Joker called out as he lurched forward, at the force of the explosions impact.

“Generators unresponsive. All hands brace for impact.”

Tali let out a little squeak of a scream as Joker momentarily lost control of the Normandy and something violently impacted one of the wings.

Without time to react, a ball of flame engulfed the Normandy, quickly extinguishing, but promptly followed by a heavy impact that sent Joker over the side of his chair and everyone else in the room stumbling for something to hold on to that wasn’t another crewmate.

It was fairly clear they’d crash landed onto the surface of the main base, and as Shepard stared up from her current explosion-encouraged position of laying flat on her back, she stared up at the massive expanse of collector ship above them. Taller than any skyscraper on earth, but with no clouds to block the view she instantly felt incredibly small. Rolling to her feet with no time to take in the view, she checked to see Garrus was currently helping Tali to her feet before reorienting her vision on Joker, reaching out to help him sit upright again, “You okay?” She asked as he groaned.

“I think I broke a rib… or all of them.” He commented with a grimace.

“Multiple core systems overloaded during the crash. Restoring operation will take time.” EDI informed the crew.

“but it _is_ possible to restore it?” Garrus promptly asked the most important question.

 

“We all knew this was likely a one-way trip.” Miranda offered through comms.

 

“…it may take time.” EDI calmly replied to Garrus’s question before Miranda’s interjection.

Shepard nodded and, while greatly relieved to hear EDI thought restoration was possible, reminded everyone over comms, “I’ll do whatever it takes to stop the collectors, but I plan to live to tell about it.”

Joker mumbled, “I’m glad _you’re_ in charge. What’s next?”

“How long until the collectors find this… _landing zone_?” Shepard asked, motioning around her with one hand to indicate the rock ledge they’d just jammed the ship into.

“I do not detect an internal security network. It is possible the collectors did not expect anyone to reach the base.” EDI replied.

“Well… if we’re _lucky_ ,” Joker started, turning in his seat to look at the commander, “Their external sensors were hit like we were. They might not know we’re alive.”

“I think the Collectors are going to have a different perspective on this Lazarus project by the time we’re done.” Garrus offered, crossing his arms. Shepard, Tali, and Joker turned to offer him brief grins of amusement.

“Alright.” Shepard said with a nod, “Let’s start putting together our plan. Ground crew meet me in the comm room.” She, Garrus, and Tali immediately turned on their heels, walking quickly down the hall to meet Mordin and Jacob who were already waiting in the small meeting space.

 

As they waited on everyone else to arrive, Shepard reflected with a twinge of embarrassment at how her mind had reacted upon seeing the Collector ship once again oriented to attack the Normandy with her and her crew aboard… all while Jeff was able to remain focused. She realized slowly that Joker had something to _do_. He had an active roll to play in ensuring their success moments ago. Shepard was merely an action-less bystander. Left with nothing to do but watch the ship that ended her life attempt to do so _again_ , her mind instantly latched on to the nightmare all over again. Incredibly thankful for Garrus’s intuitive comforting, she turned around to grin at him and offer a silent ‘thank you’ in a glance.

Noticing her head turn in his direction, his gaze flicked from where he’d been staring intently at the floor to her expression. His eyes wrinkled slightly in an understanding smile, offering her a small nod in quiet confidence as the doors opened and the rest of the team poured into the room.


	42. 42. November, Omega Relay, Collector Base

 

When all had fallen mostly quiet, Shepard couldn’t ignore her inner voice as it poignantly reminded her that _everywhere_ else on the ship was equally silent. The entire Cerberus crew and Dr. Chakwas had been taken by Collectors several days ago. It was strange how much of a blur that experience had been. One moment everyone was present and the next, everyone was gone. Miranda had been absolutely livid with Joker for releasing EDI… but Shepard couldn’t find it in herself to be mad. EDI had multiple chances beforehand to destroy them all, but she seemed to have a friendly connection to the crew, and she’d stated as much. Somehow the entire occurrence slipped her mind on several occasions. Walking into the CIC was just about the only thing that made it obvious the ship was mostly empty.

Once the room fell mostly silent, Shepard planted her hands on the desk and stared pointedly at it before raising her gaze to look around at her ground-crew, “Alright, I know none of this has been the ideal scenario in getting here, but this is where we’re at. At this point, we can’t worry about whether the Normandy is going to get us home.” Of course, just because she said it, didn’t mean anyone, including herself, was going to stop thinking about that exact condition…

Standing straight again, she narrowed her eyes, focused on her thoughts and stated almost absent-mindedly, “We came to stop the Collectors… so let’s get started. EDI, have you finished scans of the Collector base?”

“Yes.” Accompanying EDI’s short reply was a very thorough representation of the base in a hologram appearing in the middle of the table.

Jacob raised his arm, activating his omnitool and nodded at the hologram, “You should be able to overload their critical systems if you get to the main control center… here.” A marker appeared on the hologram where he indicated. “That mostly means going through the heart of the station, right past this massive energy signature.” He stated with a pensive expression.

Miranda somehow managed to indicate toward the hologram with both her chin and her hip as she took a half step forward to speak, “That’s the central chamber. If our crew or any of the colonists are still alive, the Collectors are probably holding them there.”

“Looks like there are two main routes.” Jacob clarified, adding two new markers to the hologram, “Might be a good idea to split up to keep the Collectors off balance, then regroup in the central chamber.”

Shaking her head, Miranda analyzed the situation, pointing momentarily at the hologram, “No good. Both routes are blocked. See these doors? The only way past is to get someone to open them from the other side.”

Squinting, Shepard peered at the hologram with confusion trying to figure out how exactly Miranda could tell they could only be opened from one side on a detailed, but very basic scan of this base. Reaching out, Shepard spun the hologram in a slightly different direction before expanding the section Miranda was talking about. Everyone remained silent for several seconds as Shepard examined the hologram. Finally, she found the tiny indication EDI had managed to include in the hologram that suggested the doors could only be opened from one side. Slightly impressed by both EDI and Miranda, Shepard’s eyebrows rose slightly and she shrugged, releasing her hold on the hologram and watching as it reset to its normal proportions, “Well, it’s not a fortress… There’s got to be something.”

Kasumi piped in, “Why not send someone through this ventilation shaft?” A little marker appeared where she indicated.

“Practically a suicide mission.” Jacob added, “I volunteer.”

Shepard bit the inside of her cheek to keep from _humorously_ retorting, ‘this whole thing is a suicide mission, Yakohb’.

“I appreciate the thought, Jacob, but you couldn’t shut down the security systems in time. We need to send a tech expert.” Miranda’s gaze shifted from Jacob to Shepard, waiting for her declaration of who would go through.

Initially, she thought vents and immediately thought of Thane, but he wasn’t a tech expert, so her main options were either Legion or Tali.

“Legion, you can hack through anything. You’ve got this.” Shepard stated with a respectful nod toward him before glancing momentarily at Tali.

“Acknowledged.”

Jacob nodded before adding, “The rest of us will break into two teams and fight down each passage. That should draw the Collector’s attention away from what you’re doing… at least a little bit.”

Miranda stepped forward with a confident shrug, “I’ll lead the second fire team, Shepard. We’ll meet up with you on the other side of those doors.”

“Hah!” The whole room turned to look at Jack, “Not so fast, _Cheerleader_. Nobody wants to take orders from _you_.”

Shepard noted with great amusement that just behind her Garrus was lightly shaking his head and noticed a subtle roll of his eyes.

“This isn’t a popularity contest. Lives are at stake.” Miranda turned to look at Shepard with a rushed kind of desperation, “Shepard, you need someone who can command loyalty through experience.”

Nodding Shepard silently agreed and immediately turned away from her and glanced at the only other person in the room she knew had experience leading in this manner, “Garrus, you’re in charge of the second team.”

“I’m on it, Shepard.” He declared as the rest of the team looked up at him with a hint of delight in their expressions at not having to take orders from Miranda.

“Well, at least he knows what he’s doing.” Miranda added quietly, slightly miffed, but not completely opposed to the idea.

Eager to get started, Shepard nodded, “We all know this isn’t going to be easy. There’s no reliable tally on how many people the Collectors have already stolen… thousands, hundreds of thousands. Not. One. More. It ends with us. And I want to see all of you on this ship when this is over, understood?”

The entire company offered an acknowledging mix of ‘hurah’ and ‘yes, ma’am’ and the like.

“Alright. Let’s bring our people home!” Shepard declared with enthusiasm as she indicated for everyone to exit the room.

 

\---

 

Shepard stood at the door of the Normandy and silently appreciated the lack of need for helmets, “Thane and Jack, you’re with me.”

Jack uttered a dark laugh and whispered quietly as she walked past Miranda, “Yesssss…”

Garrus narrowed his eyes ever so slightly in Shepard’s direction as she dropped from the doorway before he immediately followed. He and Legion landed slightly behind her, but before Shepard went her own way, Garrus placed a hand on her back and whispered quietly, “Don’t do that again.”

She offered him a small grin and turned away with Jack and Thane in tow.

Tali quickly emerged from the small crowd and walked alongside him, as far out of earshot from everyone else as possible and asked, “What just happened?”

He answered curtly, but there was a twinge of amusement in his expression, “Shepard took the two she knows I’m not a fan of working with.”

“She’s never seemed very keen on working with _them_ either.” Tali commented quietly.

“Exactly.” He partially growled.

Chuckling, Tali lifted her omni-tool and prepared her drones as they entered the complex.

 

 

Legion soon announced through comms to everyone, “We are in position. Exterior temperature is slightly elevated. No obstructions detected.”

 

Shepard’s voice followed his, “Second team, are you in position?”

Garrus nodded as he replied, “In position. Meet you on the other side of those doors.”

The fighting on his side of the wall contained far more Collectors than he’d anticipated, but there were several times more people with him than with Shepard… If these collectors organized themselves based on _logic_ , more of them would be attacking the larger of the two teams, so Shepard should be fine, and despite his aversion toward Jack, he knew without a doubt that if it came down to it, she could make a pretty damn good biotic shield for Shepard if need be. While reluctantly, Jack had become loyal to Shepard and proven to be, surprisingly, trustworthy to an extent.  

The tension in his shoulders was making it particularly difficult to focus properly. He had been barking out orders to those around him, but only a few were actually listening. In his past experience, those with him were somewhat loyal to _his_ instruction, but here… everyone was following him simply because they _trusted_ him, and as per Shepard’s instruction.

He wasn’t going to be a Shepard, but he was fully aware that in this scenario, he was the _substitute,_ and the only thing people wanted from the substitute was for them to act like the original. So, he chose to remain mostly quiet, attempting to trust everyone enough to take care of themselves and one another as he did the same. Shepard had always allowed more chaos in her ranks than he’d been previously used to, but it worked. Perhaps that was why she only took two people at most on every mission. Shepard was always heavy on strategy, even if it was in her own head and minimally communicated. “Herding cats”, as it were, was far simpler when you kept watch and helped when necessary rather than demanding certain actions. Most of these people weren’t trained soldiers, just talented individuals with the ability to fight. As it were, barking orders wasn’t going to be effective for a group like this, but _trust_ would.    

 

 

“Legion!” Shepard’s voice crackled through the gunfire, “We need this door opened now!” Shepard called out through comms. Garrus was already standing near the door as Legion emerged from the ventilation shaft… if that’s what they called that thing.

  
“Go! We’ll cover you!” Garrus announced as Legion immediately scuttled toward the lock and began fiddling with it.

An equivalent of a snarl appeared on Garrus’s face with Legion’s next words a few moments later, “This door has malfunctioned. Path blocked.”

With a cautious warning tone, Garrus partially snarled, “Get it open, Legion!” as everyone more closely surrounded Legion, facing the few remaining approaching Collectors.  

 

“Complete.” Legion stated as the doors slid open and half of Garrus’s team turned their attention toward the Collectors waiting on the other side of it.

“Fall back!” Shepard yelled as she, Thane, and Jack slipped through.

“Suppressing fire! Don’t let anyone through that door!” Garrus commanded as they all back-peddled a few meters before Legion secured the doors again with a solid ‘clang’ noise. Samara sent out a surge of something biotic as the last Collector on their side of the door fell lifelessly to the floor. Surrounded by a sudden silence, everyone glanced around at one another as if realizing for the first time since the fight began that they weren’t alone.  

 

 

“Nice work, Legion.” Shepard concluded with a thankful pat on the geth’s shoulder before she turned around to acknowledge everyone else. Her gaze drifted over the Collector bodies on the floor and she looked over at Garrus, “Looks like you had your hands full.” She stated with a small grin as everyone proceeded down the hall. Jacob professionally lead the pack with twitchy movements to check every possible hiding position as Garrus and Shepard brought up the rear.

Before he could reply to her comment, Miranda called out quietly from somewhere further down the hall, “Shepard? You need to see this…”

He watched as she jogged away from him to catch up with Miranda.

Equally disgusted and saddened, everyone stared at the pods before and around them, “These are some of the missing colonists…” Miranda whispered as they all crowded around the vile-looking yellow glassed insect-shaped capsules. 

 

Shepard’s brow furrowed as she watched the young woman inside one, “Mordin?” She started as subtle changes took place within the capsule, “What’s happening to her skin?” Panic slowly began to grip her stomach, sending a surge of blood up her jaw and through the front of her face.  

Mordin appeared next to her stepping up to the glass and peering in, eyes shifting wildly as he began speaking, “Strange reaction to exposure. Blood surfacing. Gaseous origin? …. **Collectors processing!** Colonists dying! Shepard! _Immediate_ action! Internal organs hemorrhaging.” He called out as his thin pointed fingers began to tear at the edges of the capsule next to the one he’d been observing. “Colonists gone. Extract crew members as quickly as possible!” One of the engineers fell into his arms and he carefully lowered him to the floor before joining everyone else in racing to other pods as they smashed glass and pried the edges open by sheer force of will.

“You’d think these things would have a button or something.” Jack muttered annoyed as she blasted the side of one to crumple the casing that locked the glass surface.

Mordin continued his inner monologue aloud for anyone who might be listening amidst the panic, “Fascinating… _Horrible_.” More loudly he expressed, “Avoid inhalation of interior gasses or contact with crew members on bare skin,” He said staring pointedly at Jack, “Possible residual effects!” Garrus leaned over Jack as she darted out of the way and removed the colonist from the casing she’d cracked to ensure Jack actually followed Mordin’s suggestion.

 

 

Running to a container further down the line, Shepard and Thane both frantically attempted to destroy the glass on the vessel. As it shattered, Shepard reached out and pulled the woman from within through the opening before resting her on the floor.

“Dr. Chakwas! Can you hear me? Are you alright?” Shepard asked, able to devote her attention to the doctor as all the other un-processed crew members within reach were already safely on the floor.

Her voice was quiet but easily heard despite the slight hissing of gas from the tubes behind the sedation chambers, “Shepard?” She took a moment to breathe the fresh air outside the capsule before continuing, “You… My god, you came for us?”

 

Shepard wanted desperately to say that rescuing her people was her first priority, but if Jacob hadn’t pointed out that the most efficient route to their destination was straight through where the colonists were most likely housed… depending on the amount of Collectors, how much time she thought they had, and how likely their survival would be… she may have foregone rescue altogether.

“Of course.” She guiltily lied before her teeth gritted at the next voice that hastily interjected.

“Thank god you _got here in time_! A few more seconds and _and_ … _and…_ Oh, I don’t even want to _think_ about it.” Kelly Chambers said frantically.

Garrus observed Shepard’s annoyed squint with silent amusement as she helped Dr. Chakwas to her feet, all but ignoring Kelly as she continued rambling in shock. Thane was kind enough to take Kelly aside and calm her down, which Garrus noted took a surprisingly minimal amount of time to accomplish.

Sighing, Dr. Chakwas spoke quietly to Shepard, also ignoring Kelly’s panicked monologue, “The colonists were _processed_. Those swarms of little robots paralyzed them, and then…” Shepard couldn’t help but grin. Dr. Chakwas was freshly emerged from her flesh-dissolving vessel and already hypothesizing aloud how the process may have worked.

“I think then the gas initiated the process, coupled with an increasing pressure within. Both, I believe interacted with the neurotoxin of the swarms and… _melted_ their bodies from the inside out into a crude grey liquid. Pumped it all right through these tubes.” She commented, indicating at the massive pipes leading… somewhere.

“Any guesses as to why they’re doing this? Is it our genetic material?” Shepard asked curiously, momentarily forgetting that Collectors were probably advancing on their position as they spoke.

Dr. Chakwas shook her head, “I wish I knew. I’m just glad you made it here, whether on purpose or coincidence, before it happened to us.”

 

Nodding, Shepard turned to face the rest of her crew, “Alright, we’ve secured who we could, but we still have a job to do. Thankfully, it’s gone fairly well so far. Let’s hope we can finish this mission and get out of here.” With a deep breath, Shepard glanced absentmindedly at the massive tubes across from her, “Joker? Can you get a fix on our position?”

“Roger that, Commander. All those tubes lead into the main control room right above you. The route is blocked by a security door, but there’s another chamber that runs parallel to the one you’re in.”

“I cannot recommend that. Thermal emissions suggest the chamber is overrun with seeker swarms. Mordin’s countermeasure cannot protect you against so many at once.” EDI analyzed.

Shepard’s gaze landed on Samara as EDI spoke and she asked aloud, “Alright, what about biotics? Could we create a field strong enough to keep them from getting near us?”

Samara nodded, “Yes… I think it may be possible. I wouldn’t be able to protect everyone, but we might be able to get a small team through if they stayed close.”

“I could do it too.” Miranda agreed, “In theory, any biotic could handle it.”

Curious, Shepard prodded, “Is it possible for all three of you biotic ladies to work together to create one massive field that could get us all through at once?”

“In theory…” Miranda said with a nod, “However, this seems to be a similar situation as before. It will be easiest for one biotic to go with you through the swarm area while the rest of the team diverts and secures the other passageway.”

Shepard sighed, clearly not a fan of this repetitive splitting up plan, but it made sense, “Alright then… Samara and I will take a small team through the seeker swarms. The rest of you, provide a diversion by going through the main passage. We’ll open the security doors from our side and meet you there. Garrus, you’re in charge of the diversion team.” She re-instructed.

He nodded, “We’ll keep the defenders busy.” 

Dr. Chakwas politely piped in, “What about me and the rest of the crew, Shepard? We’re in no shape to fight.”

Joker commented on the situation, “Commander, we have enough systems back online to do a pick up, but we need to land back from your position.”

Already, he and EDI had repaired enough of the ship to be able to pick up the crew members… A visible weight lifted off Shepard’s shoulders as Joker spoke.

Miranda shook her head, “We can’t _afford_ to go back, Shepard. Not now.”

Shepard all but ignored Miranda’s comment and turned to her other crew members, “Thane, I trust your scouting skills. Walk ahead, find the angles and or potential ambush points and get the crew back to that ship in one piece.” Shepard commanded.

He nodded, accepting the role without argument, “Joker, send me the landing zone coordinates. We’ll meet you there.” 

 

Nodding, Shepard indicated to Samara, Mordin, and Tali to follow her.

 

 

 

Usually, Shepard’s plans were relatively acceptable in their level of risk. Acceptable to someone who’d worked with _her_  specifically. However… walking through the thickest cloud of collector swarms aboard the ship with only a biotic shield powered by a single person keeping her and those she took with her from paralysis was _not_ the most pleasant plan. On the other hand, what about this _whole_ endeavor had been even remotely pleasant besides everyone still being alive so far?

_Kelly Chambers is still alive. There’s that to be excited about._ Garrus cynically joked to himself.

 

Shepard’s team split off from the group as the ship crew left with Thane. Everyone remaining turned toward him.

Refusing himself the concerned glance at Tali and Shepard as they walked away, he nodded sideways, “We need to be at that door before they are. Move out.”

 

A rush of wind drifted through his comms from Shepard as Samara raised her shield. Although he wouldn’t have _wanted_ to trust Shepard’s safety with some of these people, he now realized that even if she had chosen to take Jack instead of Samara… he wouldn’t have been concerned about the quality of the protection. _All_ of them were backing Shepard. This whole crew was dedicated, determined, and willing to work together, both for the end goal and _for Shepard_.  

 

The rapid thumping of feet ranging from krogan to tiny Kasumi was the only sound in the long corridor. Disconcerting sensations ran straight through Garrus’s skull, from the base of his neck and out through the bridge of his nose. A dull kind of ache resting at the top of his stomach. Holding up a hand in a fist, his brow furrowed and he called out, “Hold up!”

Everyone slowed their pace or halted, turning to look at him with unsettled expressions. Some of them could feel it too.

 

 

“We’re heading into an ambush.” His voice was quiet, almost a low rumble and several nodded their heads in uneasy agreement.

“They’ve been pretty disorganized and stupid so far.” Jack commented with a shrug.

Sharply nodding once, Garrus continued speaking, “Grunt. Zaeed. Kasumi. Up front with enough room to move freely when we get to that door.” Grunt offered a slow chuckle in reply, Zaeed a grunt, and Kasumi raised both hands next to her face in thumbs up gestures.

Momentarily allowing himself the luxury to laugh at what he was about to say, he looked sidelong down at Jack, “Jack, just do whatever the hell you want.”

The grin that curled one corner of her mouth was equally entertaining and terrifying.

Turning his attention to the two Cerberus members, he nodded at them, “Miranda. Jacob. Take position on the outskirts to fire from both sides. Legion, hold the backline with me.”

With everyone assigned their roles, he nodded for Grunt to take the lead. He strayed further back from the group, rifle trained over their heads, both eyes open, surveying the surroundings… ready at a moment’s notice to focus his attention on the scope.

 

 

 

 

The set up he’d commanded was working fairly well, but he was currently pinned against the door with limited space to move. Five minutes in and everyone was spreading out a bit too much, but even if he tried to shout into comms, it may or may not be heard. At a certain point in a battle you relay what information you can to the one or two people listening and hope everyone else has the wherewithal to take care of themselves and their closest comrades if possible.

He had to say… Jack was doing a damn fine job at doing whatever the hell she wanted. She was expertly alternating between firing her weapons to creating a biotic shield, to throwing out whatever the heck biotics used as _biotic weapons_ … Disks or giant glowing spheres of some sort.

 

Grunt, at this point, was firing his shotgun while running head-first towards a cluster of Collectors sending them sprawling, or dead, which Kasumi was easily able to follow up on. Jacob and Miranda were keeping everything funneled so the Collectors couldn’t access many side flanks, and Garrus was keeping an eye on the disgusting multi-corpsed-glowing things whose shockwaves regularly sent members flying backwards, relying on surrounding aid to allow them back to their feet.

Everyone was working really well, keeping everything at bay, but the fact still stood… they were pinned at the door and the wave of Collectors didn’t seem to be slowing any time soon.

“Shepard?! Shepard what is your location?” He called out above the noise. Thank the techs for whomever had the skill to install noise-cancellation in these comm units. If Cerberus was good at anything it was uncanny foresight and precision execution of complex technological concepts.

His brow furrowed as his request was met with silence, “Shepard?”

Once again… silence.

 

Part of his mind made him temporarily jerk his head to the side to look at the door… _looking_ for Shepard. Momentarily, logic disregarded the evidence that the massive metal wall behind him was still sealed and he wouldn’t be able to spot her. His mind immediately snapped his attention back towards the Collectors as a blue shock wave raced toward him, knocking him back against the doors. Annoyed, he growled slightly and fired back three times in expert succession.

 

“Shepard! Do you copy??” Anxiety had slowly seized his spine at Shepard’s silence. The battle in front of him kept him focused, but the silence was unnerving.

 

“Come _on_ , Shepard? Where are you?” Perturbed, he took a wrathful shot toward one of the disgusting blob creatures.

“I copy!” Her reply re-focused him like a full-body dunk in cold water, “What is your position?” She asked.

“We’re pinned down at the door. Taking heavy fire.” He relayed quickly.

“I’m here! Tali! Get this door open!”

 

“Door’s open! Fall back!” He shouted out at the rest of the crew as they turned and ran through the door. Garrus kept his secondary weapon stocked and firing as he ushered everyone past. “Go, go, go!” He called out before he finally backed through the door firing once more as the doors nearly closed before him.

In the instance he was no longer able to fire without risking hitting the door itself, he turned around to make sure everyone had made it through still standing.

A loud ‘ffping!’ noise alerted everyone in the room, all eyes turning toward him as Garrus was sent forward slightly, a slight gasp of air escaping his mouth before he staggered back toward the doors, clutching his side with his free hand.

 

He’d been shot so many times at this point, he’d lost count, and he was damned convinced at this point omni-gel was invented by Mordin, or his great great great grandfather, or something to that extent… accounting for how short Salarian lives were.

Blinking heavily as the cooling gel quickly spread over and into the area, his blood rushed the chemicals to his brain that convinced it of ‘the wound is much better now!’ even though omni-gel wasn’t truly a repairing mechanism. Omni-gel certainly expedited the healing process at least ten-fold within the first thirty minutes, but the regeneration also depended on the area, the amount of nerve endings, the mineral content of the torn flesh, etc.

Cognizant of someone’s hand on his shoulder, he looked up to see Shepard’s furrowed brow scrutinizing him as he rose once more to his full height and raised his chin quickly in acknowledgement that he was fine.

Nodding she asked, “Joker? Are you at the rendezvous point?”

“I’m here, Commander. Chakwas and the rest of the crew just showed up.”

EDI agreed, “Thane and his group just arrived, Shepard. No casualites.”

A pleased smile spread to everyone’s faces at the news everyone was back safe and the ship was able to pick them up.

“Alright!” Shepard sighed excitedly, “EDI, what’s our next step?”

“There should be some nearby platforms that will take you to the main control console. From there you can overload the system and destroy the base.”

Eyes widening, Shepard looked further down the hallway and took notice of the platforms. Evidently surprised by how close they were to their final goal, despite the previously discussed plan effectively helping them reach this point, everyone gave a pleased nod of recognition toward the visible platform at the end of the short corridor.

“Commander?” Joker asked with a worried tone, “You’ve got a problem. Hostiles are massing just outside both doors. Won’t be long before they make it through.”

Kasumi grinned and tossed a little sphere in the air, “It’s going to take them a bit longer than they planned.”

Garrus and Shepard offered her a proud grin despite _no one else_ understanding what the hell she was talking about. The program she’d saved from Liara’s bust-in at the Shadow Broker’s ship. Neither of them were surprised Kasumi had managed to either figure out or get her hands on something just as strong that did the exact opposite… locking instead of unlocking.  

 

“Well… Most of us will stay here to cover your back. Pick a small team to go with you.” Miranda said with a nod towards Shepard.

“Garrus and Tali, you’re with me. Grunt, you give the orders on this one.”

Grunt’s mouth opened slightly in a pleased grin/grimace, and his icy blue eyes shone with determination.

Several people cast Shepard a confused expression for her choice of leadership, but as Garrus stepped up onto the platform to stand beside her, he noticed her proud expression, gaze fixed on the young krogan.

Finding it useless to question Shepard at this point, Miranda sighed and asked, “Anything you’d like to say before we do this?”

 

Garrus’s eyes crinkled slightly in mirth. He knew Shepard hated giving these speeches, but she always did well.

“The collectors. The reapers. They aren’t a threat to us.” She started, sending twinges of confusion through several people’s faces, “They’re a threat to _everything_ … _everyone_.” Understanding registered and was quickly replaced with intent listening, “ _Those_ … are the lives we’re fighting for. _That’s_ the scale.” She emphasized by raising both hands as if holding something in front of her to emphasize her point.

Dropping her hands and nodding she offered, “It’s been a long journey, and no one’s coming out without scars.” Although she didn’t turn to look at him, Garrus could see the smirk that she attempted to hide. He suddenly became more aware of the gauze on his face, but a return grin lightly shifted his expression.

“But it all comes down to this moment.” She continued, “We win or lose it all in the next few minutes.” Pausing to make sure everyone was reminded of the gravity of the situation, she finished with a small grin, her gaze once again pointedly fixed on Grunt, “Make me _proud_. Make _yourselves_ proud.”


End file.
